Come with me, My Little Serpent
by Writing Is What I Do Best
Summary: Harry wakes up from a... questionable dream to find his dream becoming a reality, and maybe a few more as well. WARNING: DUMBLEDORE BASHING DARK!HARRY VOLDEMORT/HARRY
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second one ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:  
DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have any problem with any of these things, are too young or too immature to read this, go away.  
That's what the back button is for. I don't need flamers, and I promise you, I'm not gonna give a rats butt  
if you don't like my writing or this pairing. Cuz for every one of you, there is at least four that do.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do in fact own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.  
So go bother JK Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it. **

_Harry moaned as white fingers trailed down his torso, crimson eyes blinking at him knowingly. Pale and tan chests were bare, though pants still hung loosely around both males' hips. Harry moaned as the older male drug their constricted erections together. One pale hand paused to play with a perk nipple, fueling the fire that burned through his veins. The other hand continued down, to hook in the waist of Harry's pants. The boy's breath hitched and caught in his throat. Red eyes seemed to sparkle with dangerous delight. A snakelike tongue flicked out to lick behind the dark haired boy's ear, sending shivers down the teen's spine. "Do you want it?"_

_ Harry whined as the man played with the waistline of his pants, teasing him. His hands knitted into the sheets, and his hips bucked upward in order to get more friction. The crimson eyed man chuckled and said in his ear, "Answer me, Harry. Answer your Master." Harry whined but didn't reply, and thin fingers began to play with the button and zipper of his jeans, doing nothing more than teasing him. "Tell me what you want, Harry, and it's yours. Tell me, and I'll give it to you."_

_ Oh, Harry wanted it. There was nothing more he wanted more than for the fire burning through his body to be alleviated. "Yes… yes, I want it…" A cruel and seductive smile played across the pale face._

"_What is it you want?" Harry mewled, squirming under the man._

"_You… I want you..." With a grin the man pressed their lips together, his fingers nimbly unzipped and unbuttoned Harry's pants, pulling them down and off to reveal his erection. The nude teen shifted self-consciously under the unwavering gaze of the man. He shivered in anticipation as the red eyed man moved down his chest, his fingers playing with his hips. The man grinned just as he reached Harry's member, and he opened his mouth to engulf Harry in delicious, hot pleasure…_

Harry woke up panting, body slick from a cold-sweat, his face flushed as he remembered his dream. 'What the hell?! Was I just dreaming of Tom Riddle sucking me off?' With a furious blush he realized that the dream had left him excited and aching, and he needed to take care of a problem. Muttering curses under his breath, Harry slid out of his bed and tip-toed out his door, walking quietly to the bathroom.

He thanked the heavens for the Dursleys being such heavy sleepers as he turned on the water in the shower. He pushed off his too-big boxers, stepping into the hot water, shivering as it ran down his body. He leaned back against the cold tile, and his hand instantly went to his aching member. As he brought himself to completion he tried to imagine it was anybody—Ginny, Hermione, anyone—other than the Dark Lord. Somehow he couldn't accomplish that feat.

Therefore it was Tom Riddle's name he moaned and screamed, spilling his seed over himself. He blinked away the spots in his vision, sighing exasperatedly at himself. "Damn it." He washed his seed off, running his now clean hands through his messy hair. Harry turned off the water and dried off, walking barefoot across the cold hardwood floors of the hall back to his room, where he sank down on his bed without bothering to put clothes on. His brilliant green eyes hadn't even fully closed when he heard,

"My, my, Harry. You've been a very naughty boy." Said teen flew up in bed, the thin sheets pooling around his hips. His breathing was slightly elevated as he watched the man from his dreams step out from the shadows in his room. He looked like the same Tom Riddle that came out of the diary in his 2nd year, only older with vibrant red eyes. "Dreaming about very grown up things, much too mature for a young boy like you."

The man with crimson eyes watched Harry go from surprised to fearful to guilty and even a little bit mad. He licked his lips hungrily, something that the teen didn't catch. The boy did catch his eyes raking over his naked, built body. He lowered his gaze and shifted uncomfortably as Tom drew ever nearer, backing up hesitantly. He didn't realize that as he did so that he was backing out of the sheets covering him.

Suddenly Riddle was straddling him, pressing their bodies together. Harry's voice died in his throat and all he could do was stare, quivering, at the man. His breath tickled Harry's face as he said, "You shouldn't be dreaming about something so mature. After all, you are much too young to know anything about _those _things." He was being dreadfully mean, teasing and picking on Harry like that.

Harry found his voice, "I am not too young to be having wet dreams, you creep! And for your information, I do know quite a few things about _those_ things, Voldemort." An evil, demented grin spread across the man's face when he heard that.

"Now, Harry, that's now way to speak to your elders, nor your seme. That is, if you know what exactly you are talking and/or dreaming about. Which I highly doubt." With a wicked insane look in his eyes he pressed their nether regions together. He chuckled in a tan ear when he heard the teen let out a loud moan.

"I… do… too know…" Harry's hands knitted into the sheets, trying and failing to ignore the tightening in his loins. Not that it helped when the Dark Lord reached down to fondle him through the sheets. He moaned and whined, wriggling under Voldemort's touch. "Oh... God..." The man leaned down, his lips touching Harry's, but not kissing.

"Do you like that?" he grinned as Harry's body bucked against his will. He watched as the boy blushed as he got hard. "Why, I believe you do. Do you want more?" Harry bit his lip, shaking his head though he knew it wasn't true. This was his enemy! The man who killed, manipulated, lied! This was the man he was prophesized to kill. He had killed his parents, for God's sake! Here that man was, offering Harry sex.

Voldemort pressed their lips together, igniting a fire that raged through the adolescent's body. Harry's hands flew up to knot in the man's hair, his back arching, pressing their bodies together. "God..." When Harry moaned that Voldemort slipped his tongue inside, melting the boy's innards. 'Why am I supposed to hate him again?' He whimpered softly as long, thin fingers trailed down his stomach, teasing his pert nipples.

The man rocked their hips together, saying in Harry's ear, "Do you want more? Hm, Harry? Just say the word, and it's all yours." He grinned wickedly before kissing Harry again. The contact brought tingles of pleasure to the boy, and his body felt as though it was slowly and in the most tortured way possibly imaginable throguh his body, having him crying and aching with need. He bit his cheek to prevent himself from crying out and begging, trying to keep some pride.

Finally, the pressure was just too much. The fire, the need, he _needed _more. Rocking his hips back against the man's he mewled, "M-more..." Voldemort grinned, reaching down to pull the only thing obstructing his view of the teen. Giving him two more kisses, he pulled away to take in the beauty of his soon-to-be lover. What he saw took his breath away.

Harry blinked his emerald eyes innocently at him. His hands were curled by his head, and he chewed his red, puffy lips self consciously. His body, though Voldemort had previously thought was built, lacked true muscle, as his were the kind one had when one's diet didn't suffice. The man licked his lips, leaning down to capture the teen's lips once more, grinding their growing erections together.

Harry's hands fumbled with the buttons on the man's shirt, growling softly when he couldn't unbutton the shirt fast enough. He knew he should be ashamed, disgusted by this, but for some reason he couldn't be. He needed an outlet. An outlet for being everyone's scapegoat, for being everyone's hero, their go-to guy. He needed to forget Hermione and her know-it-all-ness, along with Ron and his why-are-you-so-much-better-than-me-because-I-am-better-than-you-ness. He needed to escape Dumbledore and the way he twisted everyone for his liking, how he had the world under his fingers. He needed to escape the way he was the crooked man's puppet, to escape and hide from it all...

And Tom was the perfect way.

Harry groaned as Voldemort leaned back, slipping off his shirt with a lustful stare at the boy under him. He leaned back down, pressing his constricted erection to Harry's freed one. His tan fingers moved down to tug on the baggy pants, keen to get them off. The man smirked and chuckled, saying softly, "My, my, eager, Harry?"

The teen mewled as the man rocked their hips together. He ran his fingers up to knit in the dark hair as pale fingers outlined the muscles in his chest. The feelings were unlike anything he had ever experienced before, the touch of the one who understood him most, understood him more than any other person in the world ever could. The touch soothed an ache he didn't know he had, appeasing his soul just as it set him ablaze, his skin itching and yearning for more.

"_Harry, what do you want, my little serpent? My little Chosen One?" _A tremor slid down his spine with the silky words whispered in his ear. His nails dug into pale shoulders, droplets of crimson beauty beading under his fingertips. The tan male's back arched as teeth dug none too gently into his neck, leaving a soft red mark behind, a love bite, a claim.

A groan slipped from between his lips, "Vol—" The teeth returned, sharper this time, invoking pain as a punishment. He gave a shudder at the dominating action, the body above him, the feeling of submission coursing through him.

"_Speak in the language that only you and I know. Speak so only I can understand." _Harry felt his member throb at the words, the very thought, the idea of the two having their very own language. It was true, the only two in the world who could understand were the two in the upstairs bedroom of Number 4, Privet Drive, no one else in the world. The thought excited him, giving him goose bumps, only proving to him more that his archrival was the only one who could ever understand him fully.

A cool hand wrapped around the teen's erect and sensitive member, stealing a hiss from his throat, the sound earning him a moan from the only other Parselmouth alive. _"Tom…" _The hiss that answered in Harry's ear sounded an awful lot like a growl, accompanied by a particularly hard squeeze, to which the green-eyed male bucked and moaned.

"_You dare…" _the words, each syllable sending a tremor through his body, were hissed to his lips, the closeness punctuated by the older licking his lips in the most dreadfully teasing way. Still, with sparkling eyes, the teen said with a grin,

"_Yes, I dare, Tom, because I always have." _The grin turned into a smirk, and Harry reached up, pulling the other down by a hand behind his neck to crash their lips together. With a hiss that could be classified as nothing but a snarl, Voldemort pushed Harry deep into the sheets, his tongue forcing its way into the other's mouth and quickly dominating the teen once again, who had no choice but to moan and take it like a man. Only once he was allowed a breath did he say, _"And I always will." _

This only seemed to arouse the crimson-eyed man further, who had decided that clothes were no longer necessary and unwanted. He pulled away only for a split second after crashing their lips together once again, pausing only to push Harry back again, their wonderfully nude bodies eliciting extraordinary moans from both wizards. His tore the teen's breath from his lungs, kissing him with such ferocity he made his head spin. He grinned evilly as the teen dug his fingernails into his back, leaving what he was sure were angry red marks in their wake.

Harry gasped as he felt the intrusion of a lube coated finger, gasping and twisting at the uncomfortable experience. _"My Serpent, I will have you tonight. Relax, for I am eager to take what was always mine to take." _The words in his ear slowly relaxed him, the soft, surprisingly gentle kisses that were placed up and down his face and neck, long, thin fingers trialing his stomach. _"You are mine as you are no one else's. You are my Chosen One, my Serpent, my Prince. Mine, mine, mine, mine. No one will ever own you as I do. No one can ever dominate you as I, no one can know your flukes and weaknesses like I." _

The words sent the teen's heart to flutters, his green eyes closing to the world as his domineering partner began to move the finger inside him, causing unpleasant pressure that quickly faded to gentle pleasure. Another finger was added to the first, and he unintentionally clenched tight, relaxing to Voldemort's smooth voice that was whispered so seductively in his ear with a possessive undertone. _"You know that, don't you?" _He nipped roughly at the other's chin, drawing his attention away from the fingers that moved methodically, slowly stretching the teen, readying him for intrusion.

"_Yes, I know…Yours…I am yours forevermore…" _he panted in Voldemort's ear, his hands fisted into the sheets beside him. To belong, to be owned, to not have to lead... It was a very appealing look on the rest of his life. He would be content to never, ever have to lead the fight against the Dark side ever again. He would be content to sit back, eat Muggle sweets and Treacle Tarts, and get fat for the rest of his life. But, somehow, it seemed what Voldemort was offering seemed so much better.

"_Mine…" _The word was hissed in his ear as he stretched his fingers apart, sending a shooting pain up his back. The man hissed softly in comfort, his other hand pumping the teen's vigilant erection. _"Do you like that idea?" _The teen could do nothing more than groan and nod, his head thrown back on the flattened pillow, his hands reaching up to claw deep marks into the Dark Lord's shoulders. _"Well? Do you?" _He insisted upon an answer, and Harry could tell he planned on removing his fingers unless he received one.

"_Ugh… Yes!!! Yes…" _He moaned loudly, thanking the Heavens that the Dursleys were such heavy sleepers. _"Yes, Tom, it sounds positively delightFUL!!!" _He screamed as Voldemort shoved his fingers deeper inside of him, brushing a bundle of nerves he hadn't known he had. _"Oh bloody hell…" _Voldemort grinned evilly, leaning close to drag his fangs along the teen's neck, smirking when he let out a louder moan. _"Again," _he murmured pleadingly, his pride not caring about how pitiful he sounded, begging at the feet-hands of a Slytherin, his worst enemy. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"_Again? Are you sure?" _The man leaned down and licked behind his ear. _"I'm not sure if your innocent little teen body can take it. After all, you are just the Boy-Who-Lived. The Chosen One. The Savior." _He growled, biting his ear. _"You just might break." _

Harry growled in response, jerking his head up to sink his dull teeth into the Dark Lord's collarbone. _"After all that I've been through, the last thing one can call me is breakable." _It irritated him, how the man thought he could just mess with him, tease him over the edge. _"So, yes; Again."_

The man grinned, leaning down and whispering into the green-eyed male's neck, _"Very well, my little Serpent." _He pushed another finger in, the third and final, pushing in deep to probe the teen's prostate with them, smirking as a loud, strangled yell escaped his lips. Yes, his Serpent was quite loud, and he very much so like that fact. _"Are you content now?" _He continued to stroke the organ making it nearly impossible for the teen to make a coherent sentence. He liked watching his serpent attempt to speak, only to have to words stolen from his throat at the sounds that made their way through it. That was what intense pleasure would do.

"_My little serpent,"_ he hissed at him, stretching his fingers apart and earning himself a gasp of pain. He growled at nothing, leaning forward and putting his head on the teen's shoulder, nearly gasping at the thought of the teen being around him, clamping down on him with all his might as he took one thing that had always belonged to him. The thought soon became too much, and he jerked his fingers out, and through Harry's whine he murmured a lubricating spell, then, without further ado, thrust deep inside him, stilling to let him adjust.

Harry let out a scream, throwing his head back and digging his blunt nails into Voldemort's shoulder, drawing blood to the surface. The man hissed in his ear at the feel of the teen's muscles clenching around him, and his own nails dug into the boys hips. He could barely contain himself for a full minute, and was moving before Harry had enough time to fully adjust, pulling nearly all the way only to slam all the way back in, as far as he cud go.

Green eyes rolled back in his head as he nearly screamed from the pain and pleasure, but lost his voice and breath at the feeling. _"Damn…" _he managed to murmur before the older man shoved all the way in again, brushing that same spot he had reached with his fingers. That was all he needed to see stars, all that he needed to cum. It splattered all over both their chest and the red eyed man growled at the feel of Harry clenching his already tight muscles around him in orgasm.

He pounded in harder and faster, gripping the other's hip to help achieve what he wanted. It didn't take long for him to follow, filling his cavity with his seed. The teen gasped at the feeling, moaning lightly as he rode out the waves of pleasure before slowing and relaxing his head on his shoulder. He chuckled darkly, laying in that position for a few minutes, still sheathed deep with Harry. _"My little Serpent…" _he whispered in the other's ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

"_That is nothing more than a sip, a small taste of what I can give you. You belong at my side, on my side, forever, Harry. We were created to be together. I am the only one that could possibly understand you, just as you are the only one who could ever possibly understand me." _He paused to look into those green eyes that were always so intense, even hazed over in spent pleasure. _"Join me, my dearest Serpent. Join me and we shall conquer the world together. You and I; our names will go down as the men who changed wizarding history forever."_

The teen continued to look up at him with those emerald eyes of his, quietly contemplating, his mind clouded over from the pleasure caused by the man above him. He could honestly see himself turning his back on everyone to go to the man, just leaving everyone behind. What would be so wrong with that? No one had ever cared about him; they only cared about the Savior. So why should he care about them? _You shouldn't_, came the hissing voice in his head, and he blinked a couple times before realizing that it was Voldemort, using _Occlumency _to speak to him and was reading his thoughts as well.

Slowly coming down from his pleasure high, he grimaced when the man pulled out of him, cleaning him with a spell. "I can't. I shouldn't have even done this." He was sitting up and Voldemort was smirking, standing and redressing. "This probably didn't even happen. It was probably a dream of mine, or something you sent me via our link to amuse yourself." He nodded to himself, as if confirming or attempting to convince himself.

"If that's what you are telling yourself, little one." He leaned down and deftly sank his teeth deep into the skin and tissue at the crook of the teen's neck, who let out a gasp and hiss, tensing and relaxing at the same time. "I am not content to give up, Harry, and I will have you know this fact." He stood, finishing buttoning his shirt. "You do not belong on their side, Harry. You never have, and never will. It's in your blood to be mine."

He was walking away, to the middle of the room. "I'll not stand on the sidelines and watched you get abused any longer. If someone is to abuse you, it will be me, and me alone. They have no right to do so." Harry reached up and cupped at the bite mark that was stinging his neck. In a flash, suddenly the man was in his face, shocking him and hissing, "You are mine, my Serpent, my Chosen One. You are the one I chose, I am the one that chose you. You are mine." He punctuated his last word, getting ever closer to his face until he disappeared with a loud crack, leaving no trace that he had been there, only an irritated wound and a burning scar.

'Great,' the teen thought with a grimace. He already had one mark from the man that had killed his parents, he didn't need another one. He didn't need a reminder who had 'chosen' him. He knew. He never forgot it.

Grumbling to himself, he rolled over and fell asleep, tossing and turning in his sleep as he dreamt of a wolf with Dumbledore's face, a bird with Hermione's voice, and a slug that carried a dancing broken wand, all yelling and screaming at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second one ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:  
DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have any problem with any of these things, are too young or too immature to read this, go away.  
That's what the back button is for. I don't need flamers, and I promise you, I'm not gonna give a rats butt  
if you don't like my writing or this pairing. Cuz for every one of you, there is at least four that do.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do in fact own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.  
So go bother JK Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it.**

Harry quietly looked over his glasses at the fool who had smiled out onto the crowd of students who had hushed themselves to hear the meaningless things the fool was saying. He, himself, was zoned out, not listening to a thing the man was saying and was attempting to tune out Ron complaining as well, but that didn't happen. No matter how hard he tried, he could hear the persistent voice that cut through all of his defenses as though they were nothing, "God, I wish he would hurry up and finish. I'm starving." The pig. He wasn't really starving. He didn't know starving.

A slick voice made itself known in the back of his mind, chuckling lightly, _The meals he has here are probably the finest he's ever had, the filthy blood traitor._ Though Harry agreed, he wasn't going to voice it, instead, looking up at the magic ceiling, that showed a clear, cloudless night. It would be the perfect night for stargazing.

_Probably, but that doesn't give him the right to constantly voice it._ He growled the words silently back, amusing the man. They had been periodically communicating this way for months now, Voldemort always adding his two cents. The teen didn't think he knew the meaning of the words: mind your own business. Even if he did, Harry was sure he would argue that Harry's business was his business, because anything that bothered his little Serpent bothered him as well.

A smile tugged at his lips. He had to admit, the pet name was quickly growing on him. Voldemort's affections were as well, though he had yet to make another appearance, he had sent him quite a few dreams in the place, with the apology (explanation, really, but it was as close to an apology as the dark Lord had ever uttered) of being busy.

A blush rose to his cheeks and he ignored it, picking at the silverware in front of him. Then that annoying voice made its way through his shields again, whining about being hungry again. This time, the reply spilled from his lips before he could stop the words.

"Oh my fucking Dark Lord, Ronald, shut your mouth for five minutes while the fool talks. It won't take that long, and then you can shovel food into your face until you puke, like you always do." He turned away after that, ignoring the indignant and shocked faces of his 'friends' as they gaped.

The voice in the back of his head was greatly amused, and the teen knew so, even if he didn't say anything. _You shut up, too. He was annoying me. I'll kick you out if you say anything._ His threat was empty, however; they both knew he didn't have the strength or the power to do so. The Dark Lord, wisely, didn't say anything. He knew the teen couldn't actually force him from his mind, but he could very easily completely ignore him until his anger had subsided. Or until the man apologized. Something the man had never and would never do.

Dumbledore sat back down, and as he did so, an immense amount of food appeared in front of them, and they all began shoveling in, all except Harry. He picked at his food and, for him, ate quite a bit. However, his stomach would not accept anymore. Having a small diet for months at a time ruined one's appetite, and made eating large amounts impossible. Still, even when his stomach was stretched to its fullest, the voice in the back of his head hissed,_ More. You haven't eaten nearly enough._

Harry shook his head, pressing his lips together in answer. _No. I could barely eat this much. I'm too full._ He patted his stomach, then reached for another sip of pumpkin juice. _There. Happy?_ He smirked to himself when the Dark Lord growled at him, demanding he eat more. However, he just shook his head again, ignoring the questioning glances he received from the others at his table. It was far too late and everyone was much too full for anyone to care.

It wasn't long until they were all dismissed to their dormitories, and Harry eagerly hurried to his bed, relishing in the feel of the castle, his home, around him once more. He couldn't think of any place he'd rather be. Well, if it wasn't for Granger and Weasley, that is. They irritated him so badly now. He could hardly stand to be around them. Which was bad, seeing as they were supposedly his best friends. Yeah, right. They were turning from him just as he was turning from them, pitying him and growing fearful.

He was finding himself turning more and more to the voice in the back of his head, confiding in him little things and large things, things he probably shouldn't have told him. He was once again reminded of 2nd year, and how he became obsessed with the diary. Maybe it was similar to that.

"Oi, Harry, I didn't know you fancied tattoos!" Came Seamus' voice from the other side of their shared room. After a slight confusion, Harry grinned, knowing exactly what he was talking about. The bite wound that Voldemort had given him had turned into a mark, a tattoo looking mark. It looked like a skeletal snake, with nothing more than vertebrae, skull, and fangs, that was biting its own tail. The marking was circular, and he had a feeling there was more behind it than a little bit of coincidence. However, the Dark wizard refused to say anything on the matter.

"Yeah, never really thought I was a fan of them either, but I just love this one, don't you?" He heard Voldemort purr in contentment as he praised the marking, laying back on his bed. He pulled the covers up around him, setting his glasses beside him on the bedside table. Yawning widely, he reached out to let his curtains free to fall free and saw Ron doing the same. He hadn't spoken to him since Harry had told him to shut up, but that was fine with the teen. He didn't mind a little peace and quiet every now and then. It was something that didn't come often and he enjoyed it when it did.

He relaxed as he sprawled out, head resting on the pillows. It really was nice to be back, even if he hated most of the people in the castle. The castle itself was worth it. Heck, being out of that house was worth it. He had never really been anywhere like Hogwarts before, and he doubted he ever would. Honestly; there was no better place in the world to go star seeing. Or go for a walk in the rain. Mmm… How he loved doing both. They were so soothing and relaxing, separating him from the world and its troubles.

Just like that, his feet were on the floor, one of his hands shoving his glasses on his face and the other grabbing his invisibility cloak. The other boys were long since asleep, the food in their stomach calling quickly to the sandman; he heeded them no worry. Tiptoeing quickly, he eagerly slipped from the warmth of the dormitory to the common room, easing through the portrait of the fat lady, he darted up the stairs to the Astronomy tower, his very favorite place for stargazing.

The stars were beautiful from so very close up, so bright and large it seemed as though he could reach up and grasp them, wrap his hand around them and cradle them to his chest, keeping them close and away from everyone. It would be his little secret, the star in his possession. He would keep it quiet and not let anyone know, not a single person. The star must not like it up there, so far away from everything and too far away for anyone to understand or feel. It was nothing more than a ping a white light in the sky, to most people at least.

Voldemort stayed quiet in the back of his mind, he himself resting in his bed. Sometimes, the boy's insanity, logic, amused him. Insanity, sanity, logic, impulse… Who was to say that they were any different? In his experience, the only difference between sanity and insanity was that those who admitted their insanity were usually a bit brighter than those who claimed sanity. He wasn't sure if his Serpent knew of his own insanity yet. He didn't think the teen did, or at least wasn't fully aware and acknowledging it yet.

Harry sighed, his eyes closing of their own accord. He wanted to sleep now, to completely relax. Something was calling him away from his mind, away from reality to the never, neverlands. He didn't want to go back into his dormitory, and it wasn't too cold on the rooftop. He could just sleep there, as close to the heavens as he ever was going to get. After all, how could someone like himself, ever be accepted into such a place? If it really did exist, that is.

He knew that Voldemort didn't believe in heaven, hell, or God. He didn't believe in anything he couldn't see with his own eyes, something he could not grasp in his hand. That's why he didn't believe in love, or in the magic of it. He believed in what was proven to exist, not emotions or fleeting feelings, something that brought a smile to Harry's face. He was so passionate about anything and everything he did; he never did anything half way. He was passionate about his cause, about his disgust of mudbloods, and about his mirth at the idea of love being more powerful than himself.

Voldemort felt the teen relaxing through their connection, and waited just long enough to make sure he was sufficiently sleeping before drawing away from the mind of the other, bringing himself back to the reality of where he was. He had been dimly aware of it; in his mansion surrounded by to-the-death followers. Bellatrix's annoying voice was the first thing he heard, yelling at another Death Eater over something stupid, as usual. He looked over with a sneer, glancing around the room he was in, displeased by how may people were currently in it.

"Out. Everyone. Now." The room fell silent as each person in the room looked over at their Dark Lord where he sat in front of the fire, staring at him blankly. He stared into the fire for a moment more before looking up, his crimson eyes settled into a glare that he cast around the room. "I will not repeat myself," his threat was punctuated by a raised wand, and they all scurried out of the room like rats out of a sewer.

He waited until he was alone in the room to stand, hissing under his breath for Nagini. She slithered over to him, her muscles bunching as she climbed up his body and rested on his shoulders. He turned away from the fire, gently running his thin fingers over her dark scales. She flicked her tongue out, watching her master for a moment then glancing around the room. She knew her master hadn't been present in the room, even though his body was. It was concerning the other Serpent of his.

She just hoped her master brought the other Serpent; she was eager to meet him, and for Master to get on with his plans. Plans that the other Serpent played a crucial part in, apparently. She could see her master chomping at the bit for what was to come, a very different observation than his normal, stoic patience. It was intriguing, to say the least, coupled with the fact that not even his followers knew anything but the basics of the plan, meaning knowing that there was a plan at all. She herself only knew vaguely what was going to happen, but she knew it meant blood and gore.

Her two favorite words.

The Dark Lord leaned forward, pressing his fingertips together as he thought. He wasn't sure exactly how long it would take to completely covet the boy, how long he would cling to that miserable Gryffindor pride of his. It had been a mistake for the Sorting Hat to place him in that godforsaken House, anyway. He was destined for Slytherin. He wasn't sure what the Sorting Hat had been thinking, putting him in such a House. Then again, knowing his Serpent, he probably had something to do with it.

He stood abruptly, with robes billowing around him as he walked over to his desk. He sat down in his comfortable leather chair, leaning back slightly in it. Once he had the boy in his grasp (finally) everything would come tumbling down around them. They would rise to power, he and his little Serpent, his Chosen One. The world would fall at their knees and beg mercy, of which he wasn't sure he would give. The wizarding world was to no longer hide behind guises and pray the Muggles didn't find them. No, the Muggles were going to know of them, and were going to bow to them.

It was as simple as that. Pure world domination. Any man's favorite wet dream. _Then again…_ A smirk coiled on his lips. _Not many men have seen my Serpent. _A thought crossed his mind and he gave a grunt, his smirk sliding from his face. _Let's keep it that way._ That boy was his and his alone. No one was to touch him. No one was good enough for him. No one _dared_ touch him, touch what was his, what had belonged to him since that fateful night years before, when one escaped Death, and the other nearly succumbed to it.

The thought made him growl in pleasure, and he closed his eyes, forming a fantasy for his Serpent to dream. It was the most he could do at the moment; after all, randomly barging into Hogwarts just to rut with his other was not a good idea. Maybe he would do it, eventually, but at the moment he had preparations to tend to, things to do, people to see, stuff to steal. As tempting as another hot scene with the only other Parselmouth in existence was, he simply could not at current. Perhaps later. Yes, definitely later.

Pushing that thought aside for later, he focused on the fantasy he was feeding his Serpent, knowing the boy would wake from it with wet pants on the Astronomy tower. The thought made him grin. Evil as he was, he could not help but tease.

_His long, thin, fingers trailed down the pale teen's chest, making his heart jump under his fingertips. A smirk twisted its way onto his features, and his ghosted his breath on the boy's collarbone, making him gasp and writhe. The other's fingers frantically grasped at the cold stone they were laying on, trying desperately to find purchase on anything, something to hold. Emerald eyes, hazed over in lust, refused to close, however, and they watched is every movement. _

_He bit at the boy's nipple, making it instantly erect and throbbing painfully. It was a pleasurable pain; he made sure of that. He knew his Serpent was a bit of a masochist, but nothing they wouldn't get to in due time. In person, though, not in some made up fantasy that was a promise of the real thing. He owed that to the teen. Though he didn't really care for the idea of 'owing' anyone, anything, it was true. He owned that to him._

_The Dark Lord's kisses were harsh and brutal, that he knew, but he knew that the other wouldn't have it any other way. His Serpent's fingers suddenly found hold in his hair, jerking his head up to crash their lips together. He growled out, hissing low as their tongues battled for dominance. He knew he would win. There was no question. He didn't know why the teen even tried. _

_Still, he humored his Serpent, because a happy Serpent made a happy Dark Lord. It had taken the length of the summer to figure that out, and it was a hard learned lesson. He thought on this as he bucked their hips together, earning him a gasp and a mewl. A grin twisted onto his thin lips, and he leaned to bite his teen's lip, relishing in how his eyes rolled back even as his eyebrows knitted. He pulled away slightly, murmuring "Little Serpent…" in the teen's ear before sliding down his chest once more. _

_He felt the other's throbbing erection pushing into him, heard the other's gasp at the friction his movement gave. One hand reach down to trace circles in the fabric of the boy's boxers, a teasing motion that he knew made his Serpent want to scream. _

_Screaming was going to come soon anyways. _

_He took a prefect bud in his mouth, chuckling as the sensation had the hazy eyed teen's back arching, hands knitting again in his hair to secure his face there with as much force as he could but it was still weak. Physical labor was not the Serpent's strength, so to speak. It wasn't that he was weak, it was that he was much stronger. He glanced up to tell him to let go of his head, when his eyes caught sight of the Mark he had left on the pale skin. _

_Desire flooded him at the sight, and he released the nipple in his mouth to lick up the small chest of the one beneath him, the only one that might ever possibly be his equal. Even then, he still wasn't sure. The man closed his eyes to focus completely on the other's sounds and tremors, what each of his ministrations did to him. He bit at the thin boy's collarbone, earning him a gasp. Voldemort felt the boy trembling under him, quaking with desire and pleasure. _

_His mouth finally reached his destination: that Mark. He licked around it, teasing the sensitive skin but not actually touching the Mark itself. His Serpent whined, other other's body writhing as his blunt nail scraped down the man's back, leaving angry red marks that made him hiss with pleasure. He gripped his hips tightly, pulling the teen to him, making bloody half moons in the teen's pale, bare hips. His boxers had long since been lost, his erection bare for the world to see, even though the men had retained his pants. _

_He knew what Harry craved. He craved dominance, to be forced to forget the rest of the world, if only for a while. He craved not to be every wizard's Savior, craved to be just like everyone else. He had no care for the wellbeing of the Wizarding World, and knew they had no care for the wellbeing of him. He just wanted that to be known and accepted. He knew that the only one that cared was Voldemort, the only one who understood. _

_Wasn't that messed up? Fate has an odd way of working itself out. _

_The man was unwilling to draw out what he wanted any longer. Abandoning the Mark momentarily, he pulled back to stare heatedly at the mess beneath him. His crimson eyes scorched what had always been for him to take, his to have. The pale teen lay under him, his cheeks flushed dark, his orbs a hazy and lustful emerald. His hands were knitted into his own unruly hair, and he panted at the gaze of the other. Voldemort knew just how to look at him to make him melt. _

_Then he pressed three fingers to the boy's lips, giving an unneeded command. "Suck." The other opened his mouth to accept the digits, his eyes sliding closed for a second before slowly opening again, staring up at the Dark Lord. The eyes teased him and enticed him, clearly saying that he was imagining each of the fingers were miniature members of the man's, and giving them worthy treatment. _

_When he deemed them ready (when he couldn't take it anymore) he pulled his fingers away. He reached down and hooked one of his Serpent's legs over his shoulder, giving him a better angle to stretch him. He may be cruel, but he wouldn't take his Serpent without preparing him first. Unless of course, he was begged and pleaded with. Then it was for the other's own good. _

_He slowly pushed his first finger in to the knuckle, listening with glee to hear what he knew was on its way. A hiss escaped the teen's lips and his back arched at the uncomfortable feeling. The Lord knew this was the part he didn't like, but it was necessary. For now. Then, came what he was waiting for. _

"_Tom…" _

'_Tom' clucked his tongue, pressing his lips against the other's temple. _"Tom…"_ he said, adopting their language. _"If you are going to use that name, speak it so only I can hear." _He felt the boy relaxing around him, and gently began moving the finger in and out, to stretch it before he added another finger. He heard the other sigh and bit the inside of his cheek, waiting for what was bound to come. _

"Tooooom…" _The sound of the voice, so weak and needy with lust and pleasure, made his pants most uncomfortably tight, and he throbbed in them. He loved making his Serpent weak and boneless in such a way. They hadn't even started. _

_Hissing his approval deep in his chest, the man pushed another finger in, scissoring them instantly. The teen's eyes flew wide, and pain shot up his spine, a predecessor for what was to come. He reached with his other hand to wrap it around the teen's arousal, distracting him from the pain of being stretched yet again. He got a gasp of pleasure for his action, and another whimper, which had him weeping for release. _"God… Tom…"

_The man smirked and bit at the boy's ear, hissing back to him, _"Something like that, little Serpent. At least, that is what we aim for." _He saw the boy roll his eyes, but watched the dark blush tint his ear and blossom on his collarbones. With a smirk, he leaned down to bite the crook of his neck, on the opposite side of his neck as the Mark. The body jumped under him, hands twining into his hair and holding him, as though he was desperate to touch him. _"What is it that you want, little one?"

_The teen whined at him, letting him go as he pouted. Smirking to himself, he added curled his fingers, earning him a gasp and tightened muscles. He clenched his jaw to control himself at the feel of the hot, wet warmth around his fingers. He could not wait to be buried deep in it, just like always. Still, he was not through teasing the boy. He could hold out a little longer. _"Well? What is it?" _The boy whined, writhing under him and letting loose little gasps and moans from his lips. _

"My little Serpent, I cannot give you what you want unless you tell me what you want." _He leaned down to lick the shell of the other's ear. _"Just tell me and it's yours. Anything you want in the world, tell me and I will gladly give it to you." _He whispered the words in the teen's ear, a promise that he knew was irresistible. For someone who never got anything growing up unless he got it himself, the promise of getting something if he just asked, was incomprehensible. So, so very tempting. _"Just. Tell. Me."

_A pant was released from the boy's lips, and his back arched at the feel of the third and final finger being pushed past his ring of tight muscles. _"A… anything I want?" _The man nodded, smirking from above as he watched, pumping his fingers in and out of the teen, searching for that sensitive bundle of nerves that would have him spiraling downward into madness. _"If I can have anything in… the world…" _He paused in his panting, his eyes screwed shut, a blush darkening his cheeks again. _"Then… I want… yooooooou!" _The last word was punctuated by the discovery of his prostate, taking his breath away. _

_The Lord knew that he could come merely from the feel of having his prostate abused, so he released the teen's erection and began slowly stroking his sweet spot, making his little Serpent mewl. He brushed the organ with his fingertips, smirking broadly. _"Which part of me?" _The words slipped out, and he wondered how exactly the teen was going to answer. Probably something boorish and boyish, blunt and eager to romp. _

"All of you… I want to have… all of you…" _That was not the answer he expected. He stilled for a second while chastising himself. Of course not. His Serpent wasn't like that, not like him, not like most other males. He did have a brain, and a very tender bone when rubbed right. _

_The Dark Lord grinned, _"If that is your wish, then that is what I shall give." _He placed a chaste kiss on his Serpent's lips, before he pulled his fingers out. The male gave a small whine at the loss, obviously too caught up in the present to realize that in a second he was about to get something so very much better. The man gave a chuckle, a hissed, _"Brace yourself." _With that, he thrust forward and sheathed himself fully in the teen, stilling once he was balls deep. _

_The heat encasing him made him want to weep with pleasure, and he had to bite his lip to keep from pounding into the lithe body under him. He leaned forward, resting his head on the teen's shoulder as he waited for the other to adjust. Goosebumps rose on his skin as a soft hand fisted in his hair, running through it and cooing. The teen, cooing to him! As if he needed it! When he was through with the boy, he would need a lot more than just a cooing to. _

_He grabbed the boy's legs and lifted them over his shoulder, and began relentlessly pounding into the boy. Each thrust took him deeper, each thrust hitting the bruising prostate. It stole the teen's breath away, and everything around him faded away into white as the world spun. Nothing existed except the unrelenting pounding of his Tom into him, him accepting his Tom. _

_Only a minute into their play, the teen couldn't take anymore. With a choked scream of his lover's name, he came all over both of their chest. The man gripped his legs tighter and took their sex to a new level, so close to the edge as he was. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the area, panicked and now unsteady. Suddenly, his orgasm overcame him, and he came with a howl. As he came, he sank his teeth into the Mark he had left on the boy, and the boy came again. _

Harry sat straight up, panting as though he had just run a marathon, covered in his own sticky mess. Leave it to Voldemort to give him a wet dream his first day back at Hogwarts, on the Astronomy Tower for the world to see. He blushed, muttering a cleaning spell as he thought of the dream again. He had a come a second time in this dream, merely from having that mark bit. It had been a pleasure unlike any other, a more powerful orgasm than ever before in the dreams.

He stood shakily, wondering what that was all about. What exactly was that mark, anyway?

**A/N: Alright, not entirely sure if I like how this chapter ended up, but what you see is what you get, you know? Sorry for such a long time between updates. I kinda forgot about this story (:**

**Review please. Tell me whatcha like and whatcha don't (:**


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second one ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:  
DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have any problem with any of these things, are too young or too immature to read this, go away.  
That's what the back button is for. I don't need flamers, and I promise you, I'm not gonna give a rats butt  
if you don't like my writing or this pairing. Cuz for every one of you, there is at least four that do.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do in fact own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.  
So go bother JK Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it. **

******A/N: Alright, I know it's been a very long time since I've updated. I'm sorry, so very sorry. I'm not going to make some lame excuse, though. I will be completely honest. I just didn't type it. This one is a little shorter than the before, and seems (to me, at least) that you read it a lot quicker. So, yeah, read, review, give me ideas! FEED ME! I simply cannot function all on my own. I need help from you all, you know (:**

Harry Potter was furious. For a number of reasons. One: Ron and Hermione were getting on his nerves. Like bloody crying babies. Hermione wouldn't shut up about how his comment at dinner last night was uncalled for, and that he needed to just go apologize to Ron already. Which wasn't going to happen. Despite the fact he had told her repeatedly that he wasn't going to, she still wouldn't shut her trap about it. Ron was just being his usual, immature bratty self. Obviously ignoring him, but openly, making it a point to point out that he was ignoring Harry.

Two: He had woken up in soiled boxers on the Astronomy Tower. Granted, he had been the one to fall asleep there, and it was his fault that he forgot that the Dark Lord loved to tease him in his sleep. Still, he knew that Tom knew where he was. He had done it intentionally, of that he was sure. Oh, just thinking about that man... it set his nerves on fire. If he could get his hands on him at that moment... He'd punch him so hard in his face he'd fracture his jaw. He'd hex him into the next decade, and make sure he stayed there! Then... he'd grab his face and crash their lips together, and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

Probably not in that order.

Three: Voldemort still refused to tell him what that mark on his neck was. First chance he got, he was researching it in the library. It irritated him, that Voldemort wouldn't tell him the meaning of something on HIS body. HIS body! Not Voldemort's, not Tom Riddle's, not Jack down the street's. His. Harry bloody Potter's. That man dared leave a mark on him on not tell him the meaning of it? Dismissing it, is more what he did, or promising that 'all would show in the near future'. God, that infuriated him.

Four: He was late. For Potion's. Snape's first class of the year and he was going to be late. Still, he would rather show up late than show up on time without his essay. It took him the better part of three weeks to write it, to make sure everytihng was correct. He damn sure wasn't going to show up without it. Might as well decide to flunk the entire year. Well, he probably was going to do that anyway. He wasn't going to be liked any more by Snape now that he was Lord Voldemort's... what was he to Voldemort again?

_Ugh... I don't even know..._ Via their mind connection he could feel the man's smug attitude, but continued to ignore him. Far too pissed at him, he didn't even want to ask him. Not what he was to the man, not what the mark meant. Didn't even want him in his head, but he wasn't good enough at Occlumency to keep the man out. So, instead, he ignored him.

Darting into his dormitory, he lunged across the beds in his way, using them as springboards in order to reach his own. Dropping to his knees, rushing so quickly he bruised both kneecaps, he threw open his trunk, digging into the contents to find his rolled up parchment that had his Potion's essay on it. _Fuck... Snape's gonna kill me!_ Anxiety rumbled in his stomach, at the thought of what Spane was going to do if he was late. _Shit!_ He darted back out of the dormitory, sprinting as fast as he could back to the dungeons, ignoring the furious feeling he was receiving from Voldemort.

_ He won't do anything to you. I see not why you are so fearful._ The Dark Lord couldn't understand how the boy could fear his follower.

_Keh,_ the boy replied, quite forgetting his resolve not to speak to the wizard. _I see him every single day. He can make my life hell. He's like a thorn in my bloody side._ He clutched at his side while he ran, a stitch forming from how fast he was running. _You don't make my life hell. Quite the opposite, really._ The teen could feel the man's pleasure at the words via their link, but ignored it, biting his lip as he ran into the dungeon just as Snape entered the room, signalling that if he would have been a have second later, he would have been too late.

"Whoo..." he said aloud, wiping sweat from his forehead. The only empty seat was beside Neville, and he plopped down beside him, grinning over at him. Harry had nothing against Neville, nothing at all. Though a little slow at times, he didn't cause any harm, really, and he had a good heart. That always counted for something in Harry's book.

"I am pleased to see that our most _famous celebrity_," he sneered the words, setting Harry's teeth to edge as he glared up at the greasy haired teacher, "has finally decided to join us." Gritting his teeth, he lowered his gaze to keep from yelling at him. He was so furious, at everyone, at everything. He was so very much so done with everyone in that school. All of their lying, thieving selves... The very thought made him want to spit at something. If Snape kept pestering him... well, he only had so much control.

Voldemort watched through Harry's eyes as everything happened, quite pleased at the feelings he was feeling from him. Anger was not something he often felt from his little Serpent, not at this magnitude. He was about to boil over, his fingers itching for his wand. The Dark Lord could feel his want, his need to hex something, to get it out of his system, and he relished in it. Feeling such emotions coming from his little Serpent...

Ah, the bliss.

Honestly, it was a turn on for him, seeing, feeling Harry in such a state. This was what he wanted, the bare, pure essence of the boy he had chosen all those years before, the boy that was his in all possible ways. He didn't want the front the boy put on for all around him, he didn't want the false smiles and half lies. He wanted the pure, raw, bare boy. He wanted nothing more and nothing less than everything of that boy. No lies, no blasphemy... Voldemort craved it like a starving man craved food, a drowning woman craved oxygen. He would give anything in the world for it.

Smirking to himself, the man realized that wasn't quite right. He _was _giving the world for it; with his Serpent, he was taking over the world. He was giving the world to his Serpent, and in return... He and his Serpent would rule for all eternity. The very thought of standing atop the world with the green eyed teen by his side made him harder than he ever would have thought possible. Licking his lips, he decided to share his little... problem.

Harry was chopping up roots for his potion, not truly paying attention to anything around him, not Snape's lurking, not Neville's babbling, not Ron's glaring. His mind drifted away, mechanically chopping his roots and leaving Voldemort with an open door to do as he wished. _This is simply too easy..._ Voldemort thought to himself while he conjured up the image in Harry's mind, keeping quiet to watch Harry's reaction play out.

_Thin, white fingers trailed down his chest, a voice breathing heavily in his ear from behind. "Harry..." the man moaned, pulling him closer, pressing their bare bodies flush. "Mmm... Harry..."_

Harry's knife slipped and knicked one of his fingers, blood instantly pooling to the surface. Jerking back at the pain, he hissed under his breath a curse, lifting the finger to his lips to suck on the blood. Neville looked over with wide, concerned eyes. "Are you alright, Harry?" The boy nodded, closing his eyes as if to close out the pain, in actuality chastizing the Dark Lord.

_Don't you ever fucking do that again!_ he said in English, but in a voice that could not be denied a hiss. _You made me bloody hurt myself! If that what you wanted?_ He felt the smug aura pouring off of Voldemort, and growled at him, pulling his finger from his lips to continue chopping his roots, the wound no longer bleeding.

_No, my little Serpent, it was not my intention to have you hurt yourself. I never wish to have you hurting unless brought about directly by my own hands..._ A shiver traveled down Harry's spine at the tone and the words, but he shook his head, trying to focus back on the task at hand. That wasn't a simple task, because

_The hands traveling down his chest suddenly gripped his cock tightly, then instantly released him into a feather light touch, rubbing his inner thighs and balls in such a teasing manner that it made him want to scream..._

_ STOP THAT!_ Harry had slipped again, but hadn't cut himself that time. Still, he could feel his face heating up... along with another part of his anatomy. Biting his inner cheek, he tried concentrating on his potion again, but it didn't seem to be working. Even without Voldemort putting the images in his head, they were slipping through, created by his own mind. He felt himself harden, and prayed that it wasn't noticable through his robes. _I swear to the God in Heaven above, the Devil in Hell below, that when I get my fucking hands on you I'm going to rip you apart limb by limb, _he hissed the words in Parseltongue, setting the man's teeth on edge.

Through their mental link, Harry felt the man's arousal, and grimaced. That was certainly not the reaction he wanted. _Mmm... promise? _Most definitely not what he wanted to happen. Running his fingers thorugh his hair, he dropped his roots (now fully chopped) into the cauldron. Shaking his head as if to clear it like a dog getting water from his ears, he turned his attention to the book in front of him, trying to read the directions and follow them so he could at least attempt to get somewhere close to the potion he was trying to make.

The teen was failing miserably. The words were swimming in front of his eyes, his dream from the night before coming to his mind despite his greatest efforts. he pushed the heels of his hands to his eyes until he saw stars, trying to force the images from his mind. Words, whispered hissing from that summer night in Number 4, Privet Drive made their home in his head, bouncing around back and forth between his temples.

_ ...nothing more than a sip, a small taste of what I can give you. You belong at my side, on my side, forever, Harry. We were created to be together. I am the only one that could possibly understand you, just as you are the only one who could ever possibly understand me._

Harry shuddered, biting his lip as he stirred his potion, as he thought (guessed) he was supposed to do. Trying not to think of the night didn't work, and he heard more voices from that same memory, whispered only seconds later.

_ Join me, my dearest Serpent. Join me and we shall conquer the world together. You and I; our names will go down as the men who changed wizarding history forever._

Another shudder skittered down his spine, and he lightly shook his head again, pressing his lips tightly together while gritting his teeth. He knew that Voldemort wasn't doing it, that it was his own self conscience, which only made it worse. Knowing that the Dark Lord was only enjoying all the more pissed him off, and embarrassed him. Feeling his cheeks light up, he mentally cursed himself. _Thank you, so very much, body. Thanks so bloody much._ Voldemort's smug and aroused aura filled their mental link, and he bit his tongue to keep from gasping outloud.

"Why, even for you that's a poor, pathetic excuse for a Potion." Harry felt his cheeks heat up brighter at Snape's slimy voice in his ear, and spun around to glare at him, but the man was already walking away. It left Harry furious at the Potion's Master and himself, so he spun back around and began to shovel his personal items back into his back, eager to get out of that dungeon. He had just snapped it shut when the bell rang, dismissing them from class. The teen all but shoved everyone out of his way in order to get out of the classroom.

Voldemort was quite amused as his Serpent darted down the corridors of the school he himself missed so much. Ah, how it would feel to finally walk down those halls again... But that was a matter for a different time, for Harry was darting into the prefects' bathroom, locking the door behind him with a spell. The man smirked to himself, leaning back in his chair while stroking Nagini, eager to see how the events were going to play out.

Harry glanced around himself, nervously making his way through the bathroom to make sure that no one was in the bathroom. It was his lunch hour, so he didn't have to rush to get to class. Besides, he couldn't have done that anyway; his erection was making it hard to so much as walk, rubbing against his pants while he moved. Darting into one of the stalls of the bathroom, he quickly unbuttoned his robes from the waist down, leaving him plenty enough room to pull himself out of his pants, which pooled around his ankles. Licking his lips, the teen leaned back against the wall of the stall, reaching down the grip himself.

A moan slipped from between his lips, and his eyebrows pulled together at the images flowing through his mind, eager to have one of them played out. Each were about the Dark Lord, each made him throb in need even greater than the last. Reaching down, he gripped his balls, biting his tongue to keep from moaning. Twisting gently, he ran his other hand up and down his length, twisting his wrist while pulling. "Mmm..." the sound slipped from between his lips at the thought of Voldemort's mouth around his cock, licking and lapping at it like it was god given.

_I don't believe in God, my little Serpent..._ "Ugh!" At the sound of Voldemort's voice in his head, his back arched, pleasure intensifying tenfold. The Dark Lord quieted, aroused by the teen's attraction to him. Panting softly, Harry concentrated on the memories of Voldemort's voice in his head, in his ear... A shudder went down his spine as he ran his thumb over his tip, twisting his balls while scraping a nail under the vein on the underside of his cock. "Hmm..." Giving a little whine, his hips thrust forward into his hand, and he panted, licking his lips and letting out a louder moan when he gently tugged on his own balls.

It was Voldemort he pictured doing all of this and more, the thoughts driving him quickly to orgasming. Shuddering incessantly, he steadily thrust his hips upward into his hand. His other hand left his balls, traveling back up to his mouth. On the way he tugged at his own nipples, biting his lip to keep from moaning. Once his hand reached his mouth, he drew two fingers into his orfice, sucking them greedily. It didn't matter that it was only masturbation, he needed something in him...

The realization had him stopping up short, almost prepared to mentally reevaluate himself when he realized something else. He didn't care. Simply didn't care. Didn't care about anything, not that he was about to finger himself, or that he was fully prepared to give Dumbledore the finger, though they were two completely separate ideas, they both brought him pleasure. So, instead of finding disgust in himself, he slipped in fingers out of his mouth and trailed them back down his body, reaching around behind himself. Not before tweaking his own nipple again, of course.

He hiked one of his legs up, pressing the flat of his foot to the stall wall opposite the one he was leaning against. Gripping his shaft tight, he took a deep breath and relaxed, picturing that it was Voldemort's finger that pressed into him. Biting his lip, he tensed his body, trying to relax for it to feel good. Remembering Voldemort's hiss in his ear, and gentle kisses over his body he relaxed, tilting his head back further. Slowly, he pumped his one finger in and out, timing it perfectly with his thrusts into his hand. "Ah..." he could feel it building up, his orgasm quickly approaching.

Suddenly, the words from his first sexual encounter with the Dark Lord burst into his head, so clear it sounded as though the man stood beside him, whispering the words in his ear, _You are mine, my Serpent, my Chosen One. You are the one I chose, I am the one that chose you. You are mine! _The hissed words made his body convulse, and he froze for a split second before exploding all over his hand and the stall, getting his semen everywhere. "_Tom!" _he shouted the name in a hiss, the feeling of his orgasm overcoming him.

Resting back, he panted against the wall he had been leaning against, removing his finger and shakily running his hands through his hair. That was more powerful of an orgasm he had ever experienced from self pleasure. The pure, dominating tone that rested in the man's voice, in those words seemed to own his entire being. He wasn't sure of anything anymore, except that everything he had ever thought was suddenly being changed, turned around, and he wasn't quite sure he wasn't enjoying it.

Muttering a quick spell, he hurriedly redressed, shoving his wand back in his pocket. He ran his fingers through his dark, unruly hair again, still ignoring the presence of Voldemort in his head. Very much so aware of the fact the man had been in his head the entire time, he chose not to say anything on the subject. Peeking his head out the door of the prefects' bathroom, he let out a sigh when he saw the corridor was empty. Making sure that there was not a 'drop' of evidence of his just accomplished dirty deed, he quickly exited the bathroom, strolling down the hallway as though nothing had happened.

His focus turning to something else, he headed to the stairs for the library. _Now, to just find out what this bloody mark means..._

* * *

Nagini was a naturally coy and playful creature. She had a sense of humor that her Master shared, except for when it was directed at him. He just so happened to do one of her favorite subjects. However, it wasn't fun often to tease the man, because there was not usually much to tease him about. When something did come up to tease him about, she simply could not stop herself. Especially when it was something dreadfully, awfully, amazing! So, when he opened his eyes again from fully emersing himself in his other Serpent's mind, fully erect, she couldn't help but give him a little bit of grief.

_Mmm... Massster..._ came her sensual, hissing voice. He quirked an eyebrow at her, her dark scales reflecting the light from the fire, her eyes showing her mischievous side to him. Flicking her thin tongue out to taste the air, she eyed him with the equivalent of a serpentine smirk. _It sseemsss Massster... That you have a problem to addressss... _He growled at her dangerously, but all she did was flick her tongue out at him again, glee filling her coldblooded body.

_"Yes, it does seem as such, doesn't it?" _He asked her, not allowing her to tease him. She quieted herself, but simply the look on her face, the face of his favorite serpent was enough of a tease. Pressing his lips together, he looked away from her, but stroked his hands down her side, playing with her scales. Staring into the fire, his red eyes seemed to take on the intensity of the fire as a challenge, forcing the fire to seemingly submit.

Nagini leaned forward, her powerful muscles bunching and flexing to hold herself up and lay her head against him before slithering onto his body, wrapping around his shoulders and down one of his arms. _I am eager to meet thisss other ssserpent of yoursss... _Flicking her tongue out at his face, she made her point before fully resting against him. He said nothing, lost in thought for the moment being. After silently sitting and stroking her scales, he replied,

_"Yes... it won't be much longer, of that, Nagini, I assure you..." _Watching his face carefully, she regarded his expression and words with glee.

_Yesss... he ssshall be brought here sssoon, but not for me... Only for you... _She carefully watched his expression, but it did not change. Nor did he deny what she had said, leaving her to her smug happiness at being right (not that she wasn't always). However, it felt good, to get behind the mask of her Master, to get into his head. She enjoyed seeing through his words to the true meaning that lay beneath. There were few in the world that could honestly claim to such, and none of those could say they were better at doing so than herself.

After all, she was her Master's serpent. _Well... one of them..._ Now there were two, and she wanted to meet this other serpent that caught her Master's attention in such a way. _He mussst be very powerful..._ Her Master had an obsession with power, an unhealthy one that she thought was as much a part of him as the power that dwelled in him. Perhaps, she could have fun with this new serpent, no? Yes... she was quite sure she was going to very much so like this new serpent.

_Now if only he'd bring him to me..._ Flicking her tongue in annoyance, she knew her Master was not listening to her; she could see it on his face. Hissing deep in her throat, she moved around to be in his face, gently snapping her fangs to get his attention. With a neigh on bored look, his crimson gaze moved to meet hers, and he raised one eyebrow in silent question. Hissing deep in her throat she repeated, _You need to bring me thisss ssserpent... Asss sssoon asss possssssible..._

Nodding, he soothed his hand over her head and down her scales. "_Soon, Nagini... Soon..." _She flicked her tongue out at him again in annoyance, and he quirked an eyebrow at her. "_You're being awful talkative today, my precious Serpent..." _He stroked under her chin and she closed her eyes appreciatively, soaking in the attention she was receiving. "_Any particular reason for such?" _Hissing in a low, contented way in the back of her throat, she peaked open one scaled eye to look at him.

_I wisssh to meet thisss other Ssserpent. He hasss you on edge... Anxiousss... _Flicking her tongue again, he caught a glimpse of her serpentine smirk. _I like it... I wisssh to know what sssort of creature hasss my Massster ssso..._ She struggled for the words, the tip of her tail flicking back and forth. _Odd... Ssso out of character..._ Voldemort chuckled at her, continuing to dote affection upon the snake, but did not respond. When he still had not, she opened her eyes once more at him, her wise, dangerous eyes staring deep into eyes that mirrored her own.

Nagini was quiet only a moment more, _Massster?_ He quirked an eyebrow at her again, signalling that he was listening, not that she was unaware of such. _What are we going to do with thisss Ssserpent of yoursss? _Then, that dangerous smirk that promised death and destruction twisted slyly onto his face, and she felt something stirring within her; her instinct of bloodlust, her instinct to kill. He drew out the best in her, making her preform to her fullest potential. She could be a very lazy snake at times, but when her Master gave her that look... Something was going to die.

"_Why, Nagini, I thought you were already aware..." _Confusion flickered across her face, and her tail flicked back and forth, trying to remember if he had ever told her of his plans. No, she couldn't remember such. The man she was curled around smirked, and continued speaking, "_My dear Nagini... we are going to take over the world." _

A shudder ran down her scales, and she drew herself closer to the most powerful wizard on the planet, eager to do his bidding. _Then bring him quickly, Massster, for my fangsss are eager to bite._ To emphasize her words, she snapped in his face, but no where close to making contact with his skin. Chuckling a little, he soothed his hand down her spine.

"_In due time, Nagini. In due time..."_

**A/N: I actually kinda like how this turned out. Feedback would be very greatly much so appreciated, thanks! (: Again, ideas, anything!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second one ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:  
DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have any problem with any of these things, are too young or too immature to read this, go away.  
That's what the back button is for. I don't need flamers, and I promise you, I'm not gonna give a rats butt  
if you don't like my writing or this pairing. Cuz for every one of you, there is at least four that do.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do in fact own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.  
So go bother JK Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it.**

**A/N: Alright, this time I updated a LOT quicker (: I have been inspired. So, I'm getting it out while I can, before I lose it again. Personally, I'm pleased with this chapter, though there is no sex/smut or anything in it. Tell me what you think, please!**

Harry Potter groaned, running his fingers through his thick hair, letting go for it to fall back into his face. His eyes crossed to look at the strands that covered his eyes, and he growled under his breath while he pushed them back. They could be so annoying; he just needed to cut his hair. Chop it off short, so it wouldn't bother him at all. That idea appealed to him very much. Playing with the strands, he allowed his mind to wonder, thinking of exactly how short he wanted it, when he heard Voldemort's suddenly angry hissing voice in his head, surprising him, _No. You are not to cut your hair._

Blinking, the teen scoffed, rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth; he was trying not to instantly react violently to being told what to do, what not to do. He had been ordered around his entire life. It usually didn't bother him with Voldemort, but he was upset at the man and the world at the moment. So, he growled in the back of his throat and muttered back in a mocking tone, _Why ever not, oh your great Master of all Darkness?_

Feeling Voldemort's amusment at his reaction he hissed at him, his anger boiling stronger the longer he thought. Chuckling his tongue, the man replied, _Don't get that tone with me, my little Serpent._ Harry couldn't deny the shiver that ran down his spine. _You will not cut your hair because I said so. _He opened his mouth as if to cut him off in an angry voice, when the man continued, saying just the right words to calm him down. _A little trim would be acceptable. However, nothing drastic. After all, how will I grip your hair if it's short?_

His face suddenly flushed at the words, and he covered it with one hand, chastising himself silently. How could the man make him so flustered? Just a few words, and he was writhing in blissful torture, eager for more. It frustrated him! He heard the Dark Lord's chuckle in the back of his head, and hissed at him warningly, not that the man paid him any heed. _It is because I am everything you never thought you could have, everything that you've always wanted, everything that was yours from the beginning. _Another shudder skittered down his spine, and he growled again at him.

_I am the embodiment of everything you were always told to hate in life. How could I not be your greatest weakness? When I am what you've always secretly wanted most? _Harry was quiet a minute, head rested in his hand when a smirk twisted across his face, an opportunity to use Voldemort's words against him, twist them in a way he surely wouldn't like. Clearing his throat, he straightened up, returning to his full height, attempting to contain his smirk.

_So, tell me, Tom... _The man hissed at him, but he did not stop in what he was saying or correct himself. _If you are my greatest weakness because of the fact that, supposedly, you are the embodiment of everything I am against..._ He allowed his voice to trail off, leading Voldermort to see where he was going before he spoke. Quickly, he understood and started to growl to correct him when the teen continued, _Then aren't I your greatest weakness as well? _

He received no response.

Smirking, he allowed himself to find joy in the fact that for once, he had the man speechless. Enjoying the silence, he glanced around himself. Standing in the library, he was trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. After all, Hermione had a habit of frequenting the library, and she was the last person he wanted to run into at the moment. Well, except for maybe Ron. However, it was very unlikely that Ron was going to be in the library. He was probably too busy snogging Lavender Brown. Not that the green-eyed teen truly cared; it seemed as though Hermione did though.

Partially, he believed she was trying to get he and Ron to forgive each other so she wouldn't have to see Lavender hanging all over Ron constantly. Not that Harry would stop that, even if he did forgive Ron. Which he wouldn't. There was nothing to forgive, nothing to ask for forgiveness for. He needed to just get over it, in Harry's mind. It was a harmless comment, after all. It was Ron that took it to heart. The teen really didn't care, though. Ron could go on being shallow and hating him. It gave him more peace of mind, anyway.

If there was a such thing as a peace of mind when one has a Dark Lord residing in it.

A low chuckling permeated from the back of his head, and he regretted to find that Voldemort had found his voice again. _I do not reside here..._ The man chuckled at the thought.

Harry scoffed under his breath, rolling his eyes. _Oh, please. Basically. You never leave it, ever. Exactly how long do you have to stay in my head for you to consider it residing? _He quirked an eyebrow though he knew the man wasn't there to see, waiting for his response.

_It would be residing if it was the only place I could call 'home'. I come and go of my own free will, therefore I do not 'reside'. _Harry scoffed louder this time, giving a small 'hah!' under his breath.

_You can leave?_ He said with overtried ingorance. _ I didn't know that! I mean, after all, you never do! You should try it sometime, to prove to me that you can. I don't believe you._ The teen knew he was testing his limits while teasing the man, but Voldemort didn't seem to mind. Actually, it was almost as though he enjoyed his defiance, the challenge and the game he presented.

Chuckling in an evil, dark way, the man replied, _My precious little Serpent... simply because I do not leave does not mean I cannot. I quite enjoy the act of being in contact with you even though I am not; far too busy trying to ready everything on my end. _

The words had the teen questioning what the man was speaking of, slightly confused. _Wait... what? Readying what things for what? _Voldemort chuckled at him but didn't answer, leaving the teen further irritated and intrigued. _Tell me!_ He demanded, but still, the man refused him an answer.

_My Serpent, I shall be seeing you soon, but at the moment... I am needed elsewhere. _Before Harry could truly even process what he had said, he felt the man leave his mind, just when he wanted him in it, to demand answers for his questions. "Ugh!" It was just like that damned man to leave just when he actually wanted him in his bloody head! He doubted that he truly had something else to do; after all, what would he have to do that demanded he leave his mind? "Ugh!" he exclaimed, a little louder this time, and suddenly Mrs. Prince descended upon him in a way that could teach vultures a thing or two about how to approach prey.

"If you cannot contain yourself, then you will have to leave my library," she whispered in his ear menacingly, and a shudder ran down his spine in fear. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in a very long time, and it was ironic that it was an old librarian that finally gave him the chill of fear again. Gently pulling away from her, he nodded.

"Yes ma'am. I'll be quiet." The woman pressed her lips together at him and gave him an unwavering gaze, sending a chill directly into his soul, and he was suddenly more fearful for his life then he had ever been.

"I'm not giving you another chance, Mr. Harry Potter." He nodded again at her, and she finally released him from her grip, backing up a few steps before turning away from him and disappearing deeper into the library, leaving him a little shaken. Shaking his head, he ran his fingers through his hair again, biting his lip to keep from growling when it fell into his eyes. Licking his lips, he made his way through the shelves of the library, grabbing a few books off the shelves. Due to the size of the books, he was only able to grab three before they grew too large and heavy for his arms.

Walking over to the nearest empty table, he set the books down and plopped in one of the chairs, leaning forward eagerly. Though reading was never truly his thing, he was very curious as to what the mark on his neck from Voldemort was. He wondered if there would even be a record of it in the Hogwarts library; what if it was so dark of magic that even the tomes in the Restricted Section didn't have it? He could get to them if it was just in the Restricted Section; he knew how to put his Invisibilty Cloak to good use.

Still... he didn't even know where to begin looking. It didn't seem as though it was anything ordinary. He didn't even know why he was looking in the regular books... Knowing Voldemort it was something that was so taboo a subject that even Hogwarts wouldn't have books on it. Then another thought crossed his mind. What if Dumbledore recognized the symbol? Recognized it and the evil meaning that was bound to be behind it? He would be in deep shit...

_Shit..._ He really hoped Dumbledore wouldn't recognize it. After all, how was he supposed to explain that? 'Well, you see sir, over the summer I began a standard everyday relationship with Tom Riddle, you know, Voldemort? And after the first time we had sex he bit my neck and gave me this!'

...Yeah, because that would go over so very well. He truly hoped that the man hadn't been stupid enough to put a large black symbol of some sort of death god right on his neck in plain view of the old coot. That wouldn't be conspicuous at all. It wasn't as though the mark was noticable or anything! Growling low in his throat, he cupped the mark on his neck, covering it with his hand. _Damnit, Tom... You better not get me in trouble..._ Knowing the man, he probably would have done it on purpose.

The first book have him no sort of help. He had initially thought that a book titled 'Mysterious Markings and What They Mean For You' would be help him, so it was his first choice. However, it turned out the book was talking more of ancient runes than tattoos. Pressing his lips together in annoyance, he shut the book with a large amount of force and pushed it away, snagging the next one, titled 'Runes, Inscriptions, Engravings and More'. He hoped this one would lend him more assistance then the first.

* * *

It didn't. 8:00 was upon him, and the library was closing. He had yet to find any sort of explanation of the mark on his neck, or even a mention of something that looked like it! Then again, he had just been going through the main library, not the resctricted section. He hadn't even gotten through all of the books he wanted to look at! The very thought made his already aching head throb in pain. Running his hands through his hair, he hiked his bag higher on his shoulder. He had checked out 2 books, and written down the titles of the other books he wanted to read.

The teen was exhausted. He hadn't been so exhausted since Aunt Marge had visited that summer and he had to run around after her, her mutt, Uncle Veron, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley. That didn't count the fact that he had all of the regular chores to do as well. Cooking, cleaning, picking up after her dog, Ripper, was that his name? He didn't know. Or even care. "Uhh..." he groaned under his breath as he slowly pulled his near dead body down the corridor to his dormitory.

Voldemort hadn't been in his head the entire day. He had dropped in every now and then, but nothing substanial. More often than not, it was to chuckle at him for what he was trying to do. Offering no help, he would only tease before leaving again. Only serving to further infuriate him. His body was killing him, it hurt to move. His eyes were bloodshot from reading for so long. His head ached, and his scar throbbed. Reaching up, he rubbed his scar in hopes of placating it.

Then, he felt another feeling. A gentle throbbing that wasn't pain emanating from the mark on his neck. Blinking, he reached up and cupped the mark again, a pleasant feeling spreading through his body. Slowly but surely, the pain in his body eased. His muscles didn't ache from being bent over books for hours, his eyes weren't burning from reading so long. The 'pleasant' feeling spread from his neck throughout his body, as if banishing all pain from his being out of his fingertips and toes.

A shudder ran down his spine, all pain gone from his body as he entered his dormitory via the Fat Lady's portrait. He paused in the common room, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from the other patrons. Blinking a few times, he slowly made he way up to his dormitory in somewhat of a daze, ignoring Hermione's called, "Where on _earth_ have you been, Harry?"

Walking into his dormitory, his eyebrows were knitted as he pondered this new development. "What the bloody hell was _that_?" he wondered aloud, shaking his head in disbelief. The mark had... had... taken his pain away! Had it? "It did!" he said under his breath to himself, slowly walking over to his bed. Crawling onto it, he was still mindboggled. What _was_ that damned thing? It could make him come (he guessed from his dream) and it could heal him? Well, take away his pain. He wasn't sure if it had 'healed' him of anything.

Still! What else could that thing do? His curiosity grew the longer he laid there, and wondered if it would heal, if it would protect him... What sort of marking it was, and how it connected him with Voldemort, because it most certainly did. He could feel that much. Licking his lips, he flicked his wand and released the curtains around his bed. Poking his hand out, he placed his wand and his glasses on the bedside table, kicking his shoes to the floor. He pushed off the rest of his clothes, leaving them in a pool at the foot of his bed, his boxers the only article remaining.

His mind reeled as he thought of the possibilities. Until he had felt the mark stealing his pain, he had thought it was simply a means of claiming him, a way of saying 'mine'. Apparently not. Well, it was probably a matter of both; claiming him and whatever else this thing was there for. Possibilities ran through his head, all of the different things it could mean, all of the different things that mark could do. Slipping out of his bed, he ran over to his trunk and rummaged around until he found a mirror, crawling back onto his bed with it.

Sitting crossed legged, he tilted his head and held the mirror so he could see the mark on his neck. It hadn't changed in appearance one bit, still as garish as ever, standing out like a sore thumb. It wasn't an ugly mark, granted, but it wasn't something your eyes could simply pass over without noting. Just the black vertebrae of a snake and it's skull, pulled into a circle so it was swallowing its own tail. Reaching up, the teen gently rubbed at it, but felt no noticable difference from the skin to the marking, nor a bodily reaction to the touch as he did to when Voldemort touched it.

Harry wondered if it would only react that way to Voldemort touching it, or if anyone touched it. Himself excluded.

Eyeing the mark for a few minutes, he finally dropped his arm when he grew tired. Yawning, he sat the mirror on his bedside table instead of getting up and out of his comfortable bed simply to put his mirror away. Laying back, he folded his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He was very tired, but his mind simply would not stop moving. His body thrummed with excitement, eager to find out what the mark meant, what it could do. Licking his lips, he reached up and rubbed at the mark again, as if hoping to elicit some sort of response from it.

To no avail.

Sighing, he sat back up in his bed, unable to stay still any longer. Though his body was tired and wanted to sleep, his mind wouldn't stop, and put a restlessness to his limbs he couldn't ignore. So, instead of laying in bed and falling asleep as he wished, he got up, stretching his limbs, redressing. He grimaced, cursing his mind for its restlessness. Walking around, he grabbed his Invisibilty Cloak and wrapping it around himself. Though he knew it wasn't curfew yet, he wasn't in the mood to be bothered by anyone, and that included Ron and Hermione and the rest of the world.

Well... except perhaps a certain Dark Lord.

_But that is only because I wish to know the answers to my questions!_ He quickly corrected his thinking, surprised at himself. He was quickly becoming far too used to the idea of Vldemort being... well, he wouldn't consider him a friend, or even an ally... but less of an enemy? Perhaps. He wasn't even aware himself anymore. Heaving a sigh, he pushed open his dormitory door, making sure the Invisibilty Cloak was tightly wrapped aorund him, covering his entire body.

He slipped through the common room without commotion, slipping through the portrait quietly, so no one noticed him. He was sure that he had felt someone's eyes on him when he had exited, but he honestly didn't care. Even if someone did know he was leaving, they wouldn't know where to find him, or how to follow him. He made sure to be silent, peeking around corners on his way out of the castle. He didn't feel like being inside that night.

Glancing around himself, he made sure to be silent on his journey to the lake, his destination. There were times, such as in that moment, that he could not stand to be indoors, even in such a beautiful, spacious castle as Hogwarts. He made his way to the lake's edge, quietly looking out on the gorgeous, sprawling grounds. This was his home, just as it always would be, no matter what happened or what the people in the castle did to him, including Dumbledore.

Walking around the lake, he placated his restlessness. Somewhat, that is. His gaze turned up upon the stars, and he lost himself in them, a peaceful feeling spreading through his body that had nothing at all to do with the mark upon his neck. Simply being surrounded by such a protective thing as Hogwarts helped sooth him, quieting his stormy insides.

Sighing, he tilted his head back, allowing his mind to roam free. He had a feeling he wasn't going to be finding out what that was on his neck for a while yet, at least, not until Voldemort wanted him to know. Which kind of, really, really irritated him. Still... all irritation left his body as he gazed up at the stars. What he would do to hold one in his hand, just for a moment, only for a second...

He would kill.

The thought didn't shock him as much as he thought it would, but he supposed it was because of the peace he felt that he was accepting things so easily. He knew he was craving Voldemort... not in a sexual way, though. But the man was the only person in the world he could tell anything to, and it wouldn't change how he looked at him. He could tell him anything, say anything! The man knew him more than anyone else, and didn't judge him. If anything, it only served to gain him further acceptance.

Harry very much so liked that. Never had he felt that he could do that to anyone. Everyone always judged him, expected him to be the perfect little prince, their perfect 'Saviour'. He was no one's saviour, no one's perfect little boy. Voldemort knew that, too. No one was perfect, no one. He never claimed to be, never wanted that title. He was not anywhere close to being perfect.

That was why he liked Voldemort so much. The man wasn't perfect, and never did he claim to be. Granted, he had a larger ego than most people he knew, but that wasn't because he thought he was perfection, only because of how powerful he was. He was honestly as powerful as he claimed do be. He could back up all of his threats, with no problem to doing so. Harry wondered if there was a force in the world that could overcome Voldemort.

Somehow he very much so doubted it. Not even Dumbledore, the man that detested killing by his own hands, though he very much so had the power to do so. Harry believed it was the willpower Dumbledore lacked to kill Voldemort.

Pausing in his walking, he glanced around him, and felt a pang deep in his chest. pressing his lips together, he raised a hand to press to his chest, eyebrows knitting. He wasn't sure what the feeling was, he had never felt it before. It almost felt as though it was a physical pain, but not... like there was no wound, but still pain. His eyebrows knitted further and he pressed harder against his chest, hoping to alleviate it. It made no measureable difference. Grimacing, he dropped his hand, wondering as to the feeling.

The teen began walking again, hoping the feeling would fade, but it didn't. It didn't grow greater, but it was unignorable. It was a dull, throbbing ache in his chest. He expected the marking on his neck to take the pain away, but it didn't, serving to further peak his curiosity to the marking. Biting his lip, he ran his fingers through his hair. "Ugh..." the groan slipped through his lips, and he turned around, turning back for the castle. He didn't know what the feeling was, or what was causing, just that it was ruining his night outdoors. He wanted to be back inside, curled up in his bed.

The feeling in his chest seemed to amplify the sluggish tired feeling in his limbs, chasing the restlessness from his body. Hugging the Invisibility Cloak tighter around his body, he rushing back to the castle now. He didn't want to be out there anymore, didn't want to be anywhere but in his bed, curled up and sleeping. The feeling spread, reaching his limbs and seeming to weigh them down, as though he was trying to move through water, then through sludge. Panic filled him, unsure of what the feeling was.

Rushing into the castle, he ripped the Invisibility Cloak from him, darting through the halls to his dormitory. The feeling grew stronger, and he clutched at his chest while he ran. He skidded to a stop in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, who looked at him scoldingly; it was now past curfew. He hardly cared, he was going in to his dormitory anyways. Panting, he opened his mouth to utter the password, when the ache in his chest gave a particularly painful throb and changed.

A gasp came from his throat at the feeling, and he clutched at his chest, eyes wide. He didn't even hear the Fat Lady - "Are you alright? Harry, dear?" because he was no longer being drawn to the bed that rested on the other side of her.

Suddenly, he spun and ran off in the opposite direction, Invisibility Cloak still clutched tight in his hand.

**A/N: Alright, what did you think? Do you like it, dislike it, love it, hate it? Tell me, please! I live for reviews! **

**Anyone got any guesses as to where it is Harry is going, and to why? What is that feeling in his chest? Love to hear your thoughts!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second one ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:  
DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have any problem with any of these things, are too young or too immature to read this, go away.  
That's what the back button is for. I don't need flamers, and I promise you, I'm not gonna give a rats butt  
if you don't like my writing or this pairing. Cuz for every one of you, there is at least four that do.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do in fact own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.  
So go bother JK Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it.**

**A/N: Alright, another quick update to go with the last. I think this one makes up for the lack of sex in the last one (: I really like this one, so I'm trying to get it out to y'all before I go to school XD Questions, comments, or concerns are always welcome (: As are reviews (:**

His body lurched through the castle, the feeling in his chest that had been dragging him backwards suddenly pulling him in the direction he was running, seeming to draw him faster. He heard his footsteps echoing through the castle as he ran, but he couldn't bring himself to care. If he was right... If what he thought was true... He simply had to find out. His breath burned in his chest, and he could hear Filch's voice echoing behind him "What is it, my pretty? Do you hear someone?" and his annoying cat's answering meow.

With the hand that clutched his Invisibility Cloak, he clutched his side while he ran, another stitch forming in his side. _Dear bloody lord..._ It seemed as though he had been in pain all day! He simply couldn't fucking win! However, if he was right... Everything would be worth it. He wouldn't mind. Not the aching in his chest, not the burning in his veins, not his irritation at being unable to answer his questions. _Please let me be right... Please._ He had not really ever asked for much in his life, he hoped that, just for this once, he would get what he wanted. Just this once.

He skidded to a stop when he heard Snape's voice coming from the corridor he was about to turn onto. _Shit! Bloody hell!_ He spun around, darting the other way, knowing another way to get to his destination, albeit longer. "POTTER!" he heard the man cry, but only pushed himself faster, trying to get away from him, unwilling to stop. Snape would have to forcefully immobilize him and drag him to detention to keep from going where he wanted. And even then... Harry was at a point where he wasn't going to let anyone stop him.

He simply had to know.

He could hear Snape about to round the corner, screaming his name. Fumbling, he quickly wrapped his Invisibility Cloak around him, looking down while he ran to make sure nothing was showing. As Snape rounded the corner so did he, slowing to a walk when he did so. He still walked, however; he didn't think he could have stayed still even if he wanted to, even if his life was dependent on it, the tug in his chest so great. He clamped a hand over his mouth, to help silence his breathing, making sure to be quiet while he walked.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Snape walking away, his head snapping back and forth while he stalked. Harry let out a silent relieved sigh, looking back in front of him and hurrying up. The feelings in his chest increased with ever second, growing more painful, and harder to ignore. The longer it took him, the harder it was for him to breathe, for him to function! He could feel that, despite it grower stronger, it was because of the time, not the distance. He knew he was going the right way, knew when he got there, the feeling would go away.

He hoped, at least.

When he reached the stairs, he threw off his Invisibility Cloak, hoping to gain speed that way. He held the cloak in one hand as he took the stairs two at a time, his body burning from the amount of strain he had put on it that day, running all around the school constantly. His breath came in gasps as he ran, gasping for air. He didn't care, he kept running. It was at the top of those stairs, the relief of the pain he felt in his chest, he just knew it! Running all the way up the stairs, he felt as though he was going to pass out when he reached the door to the tower, but he pushed the feeling aside.

He opened the door.

Standing there, in long black robes, was Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, and Harry Potter's escape from the world. He slowly turned around, looking over at him with that smug look on his face, and a slight smirk. He opened his lips and Harry's heart leapt for the sound of his voice; it had not feel truly upon his ears since that fateful summer night over a month before. "_Why, Harry... there was no need to rush._"

The feeling in his chest evaporated, and the teen felt as though he was going to pass out where he stood, all energy fleeing his body at the sight of the man. He stood, panting like a fool for an entire minute, just staring at the man who peered at him with an amused but pleased expression on his face. The Invisibility Cloak slipped from his grasp and slowly floated to the stones of the Astronomy Tower. His body trembled from an effort-an effort of what he wasn't sure, but an effort all the same.

His Invisibility Cloak hit the stones of the Astronomy Tower's floor.

Harry lunged himself at Tom.

The man caught him midair and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tight to his chest. He lowered his head to capture his lips, but Harry beat him to it, crashing their lips together with such a force Voldemort took a step back. Growling deep in his throat, he clutched the teen closer, but it didn't seem to be close enough for the teen, who pulled him ever tighter.

Harry had to pull away after only a minute of kissing, from a lack of air to his burning lungs. So, he just rested in the man's arms, pulled tight to his chest, resting his head on his shoulder. Panting, he snaked his arms around Voldemort's neck, pulling him down to press light kisses to his lips between pants, but putting his head back on his shoulder. Tilting his head, he burrowed his face into the man's neck, inhaling his scent that he had never taken note of before.

"Mmm..." he hummed deep in his throat, surprising the man with his sudden affection. Not that Voldemort minded; he enjoyed it, the feel of this boy wanting him. Though he already knew he did... he always liked to be proved right. He shifted Harry in his arms, rubbing gentle circles in his back to help calm him. It did, too. His panting eased up, his breath coming easier, and he clutched tighter to the Dark Lord who held him.

Taking a few steps back, he sat in the lower part of the rim of the Astronomy Tower, shifting to hold the green eyed male in his lap. Wrapping his arms loosely around his waist, he tipped the boys head to be resting on his chest, then peered down the boy resting against him. His usually pale face was flushed, and he was still breathing heavily through rosy pink lips. Voldemort brushed his too-long hair out of his delicate face.

When his breath finally calmed down, he looked up at Voldemort, suddenly aware of how he had been acting. His face tinted red, and he looked away again, his face brightening as he tried to pull away. Voldemort tightened his grip around his waist, holding him still. He turned and looked back up at the man, his breath catching in his throat, eyes slightly wide. The man looked down at him and stroked back his hair, his crimson eyes swirling in possessive... happiness?

Harry tried to look away again, but that man cupped his chin, titling his head upwards. Their gazes met, and the teen felt his heart leap to his throat. He tried swallowing it back down, but to no avail. Seeing humor flicker across the man's face he scowled at him, opening his mouth to chew him out-he wasn't sure with what words, but he knew he was going to yell. Maybe.

However, when he opened his mouth to yell, Voldemort suddenly decended upon him, crashing their lips together and shoving his tongue into Harry's mouth. He stole Harry's newfound breath in a second, leaving the teen gasping for air but unwilling to pull away. Turning on the wizard's lap, the teen straddled the man, facing him, chest to chest. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. The crison-eyed male gripped his hips and pushed him down, pushing their erections together.

A gasp escaped his lips, and he pulled away slightly, tilting his head back. Instead of sitting back and letting the teen catch his breath, the man lowered his head and began to nibble and suck at his neck. "Ahh..." Harry moaned, clutching at the man's robes. He bit his throat, leaving little 'lovebites'. The teen moaned again, clutching tighter at his robes, his erection straining against his nightpants. "Mmm..." he shifted his hips, praying for some sort of friction between them, and moaning louder when their erections slid together.

Then the man tilted his head up, pressing his lips to the teen's ear, and hissed, "_Harry... my little Serpent... have you missed me?" _The words sent shivers down his spine. He had not truly heard the man's voice since early that summer, the one night he had appeared in his room and they had sex. That was the last time he had truly felt the man's body against him, felt his breath in his ear, his voice whispered to his throat... His length filling him to the brim.

A shudder ran down his spine and he clutched the man closer, eyes clenched tight. He was not even sure if it was real, the feel of Voldemort against him, but he could hardly care at that moment. He didn't care if it was right, if it was wrong. All he cared about was that he felt more alive, more whole than he had since the last time Voldemort had held him. Even longer before that. A doubted he had ever felt so full as when he was with Voldemort. There were no lies exchanged between them; why would they ever have to lie to the other? It seemed like quite a preposterous idea.

After all, why would you ever lie to the only man that made you feel whole?

"Mmm..." he whined deep in his throat and hugged the man closer, tucking his head under his chest and resting on his lap. Voldemort, taken by surprise at the sudden affection, froze for a minute, then hesitantly wrapped his arms around him, relaxing into the show. He rested back a little, holding Harry delicately. The teen didn't complain, resting on his lap with his eyes closed, just holding him close. "T... _Tom?"_ he corrected himself, his voice a gentle whisper on the wind of the Astronomy Tower, bringing a light chuckle from Voldemort's chest.

He responded in the same language, "_Yes?_" The sound sent another shiver down his spine, and he hesitantly looked up at him.

_"Is this real? Are you real?"_ He detested sounding so weak, but it was hard for him to so much as breathe, much less sound strong when speaking in a language of nothing but hisses.

The man chuckled at him, _"I never thought you a philospher, little serpent..." _Still unable to contain his shiver, the teen shuddered, but glared up at the man whose lap he was sitting on.

Smacking his chest he growled at him and replied, _"I'm being serious, Tom. Are you really here? Or... is this just another image you're putting into my head?"_ Voldemort chuckled at him, stroking his cheek with the back of his hand, the gesture soothing him more than it should've. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips gently to Harry's, surprising him with how unaggressive the touch was.

_"Harry..." _the teen's eyes fluttered closed, and he couldn't help but lean into the touch. _"This is real. This is true. This is me touching you." _He swallowed the last bit of moisture left in his mouth as he stared at Voldemort, their eye contact unbroken. He remained that way, arms around his neck, then suddenly scowled at him, giving a low growl. Voldemort, surprised, quirked an eyebrow in silent question. When Harry said nothing, he ventured, _"What is the matter, my little serpent?"_

His scowl deepened, _"What the bloody hell took you so damned long?" _Blinking a few times, the wizard smirked, suddenly crashing their lips together. "Mmm..." the pale male moaned, pulling him closer, and pushing back harder with his lips. The wizard's arms wrapped tight around him, pulling him close as they kissed, leaving Harry panting and dizzy from lack of oxygen, not that either cared.

The two stayed liked that, Harry on Voldemort's lap, kissing for a long while. The stars were bright pinpricks in the sky when Harry pulled away, resting his head on his shoulder, panting heavily. The man chuckled, combing his fingers through his hair and kissing at his throat. "Mmm..." the teen tilted his head in a way that offered the mark up to Voldemort, as if begging him to show attention to it. Smirking to himself, he lowered his head, sucking and nipping at the skin around the mark, but not touching the black mark itself.

A whine escaped from Harry's throat, and he bit his lip in an attempt to stifle the rest. Chuckling, Voldemort glanced up at him to see those gorgeous green orbs closed, his serpent completely complacent in his lap, head tilted back in submission. Groaning deep in his throat, the man could feel his erection straining against his pants. Still, he ignored it, focused on teasing his serpent further.

Smirking, the man hovered over the mark, opening his mouth wide to allow his hot breath to carress the mark, holding the teen's hips while he shuddered. _"Mmm... damn it, Tom, if you don't bloody do something, than I will!" _he hissed at him, glaring with no force behind his eyes or his tongue. The man smirked at him, then pressed the flat of his tongue to the mark. "Ah!" he cried out, back arching from the feel of pleasure coursing his body. "Mmm!" he pulled the man closer, pressing his head further into his neck.

Voldemort smirked broader, digging his fingers into the teen's hips in an effort to still him. Then, he pulled his head back and away from him, looking up at him with a dangerous look in his eyes. Emerald met crimson, and the teen scowled, demanding as to why he stopped. Chuckling deep in his throat, the man leaned forward and whispered in his ear, _"Well... there wouldn't be much use to you coming now. Now would there?" _A shudder ran down Harry's spine at the words, and he pulled back to look at him, staring deep into the eyes that he had first seen all those many years ago, that mouth whispering _Avada Kedavra _to kill him.

Thought the thought crossed his mind, the fact that the first time he had seen this man was directly after he had killed his father, directly after his mother had sacrificed herself for him... It did nothing to kill his erection.

If anything... it made it stronger. Which begged the question: where was his sanity?

At the moment, Harry didn't really care.

_"Strip,"_ was the hissed command in the teen's ear, and he scowled at him for telling him what to do, but reached up and began pulling off his T-shirt, tossing it to the ground with no regard for it in the world. He had begun to pull away take off his pants, but Voldemort caught his hips in a tight grip. Blinking, Harry looked down at the man whose eyes suddenly turned hungry, scorching marks of possession across his chest with merely his gaze. The sight made the teen shiver in arousal, his erection straining against his nightpants.

Thin, pale fingers trailed across his chest, dipping into the shallow curves that defined his muscles. The man's mouth followed soon after, leaving hot, wet trails that soon turned cold over his chest. The teen shivered, clutching at the man's shoulders as the flat of his tongue drug over his nipple, sending jolts of pleasure down his spine. "Ugh!" he moaned, precum leaking down his length, staining his pants. He shivered as the wet turned cold, clutching the man closer. "Mmm..."

Voldemort's fingers trailed down, hooking in the waistband of his pants, tilting his head up to meet Harry's eyes. When their gazes met, the teen felt all of his breath leave his body, his heart leaping to his throat. Never had he been looked at in such a way... Never had someone stolen his breath like that. His pants were jerked down, and his erection sprang free, drawing a hiss from his throat at the cold air.

Smirking, the man slid a finger up the underside of his dick. Harry's eyes went wide, his back arching and his head tossing back. He gripped Voldemort's shoulders tight, eyes squeezing shut as he shuddered. Panting, he arched into the man's touch, _"T... Tom!" _The man's smirk broadened, his eyes flashing in arousal. He suddenly wrapped his hand around the teen's cock, earning himself a loud moan from Harry, who bucked into his hand. _"TOM!"_

The man groaned deep in his throat at the sound, leaning forward to bite his shoulder. _"Again," _he hissed, licking over the angry red bite wound he had just made. Confused, the teen just panted, unsure of what he wanted. Growling, the man bit his shoulder again, gripping his cock hard.

_"TOM!" _the teen cried out, understanding at last what he meant. He panted, resting his head on Voldemort's shoulder, eyes closed as he clutched his robes before growling. It wasn't fair that he was bare, naked! when the man was still fully clothed. Sitting up straighter, he glared into crimson eyes, which stared back at him in amusement. _"It isn't fair..." _he hissed, eyes narrowing. The man smirked back.

_"Life isn't fair, Serpent..." _he quirked an eyebrow, leaning forward and licking the teen's lips. Fingers dancing around his length, he smirked and replied, _"You know... you can always do something about it." _Whether the man was only talking about their current situation, their clothed dillema, or talking of other things, the teen wasn't sure.

A growl erupted from his Serpent's lips, and abruptly to got off his lap, shocking and somewhat angering the man. He opened his mouth to demand the teen's swift and immediate return to his lap when he was suddenly jerked from his seat on the lip of the Astronomy Tower. He was shoved onto his back on the floor, Harry crawling over to straddle him. His anger settling back in his chest, he smirked in curiosity up at the teen, who seemed to scowl for looking at him in such a way. His eyebrow quirked, then the teen crashed their lips together, enticing Voldemort's arms to snake around him and hold him close.

Gripping his robes tightly, Harry jerked his arms to the side, ripping the robes open, bating what he wore underneath. Shifting, the man shed the robed, laying back beneath him, allowing Harry to have his way (for once). The teen shuddered at the feel of Voldemort scraping his nails down his back, and suddenly bucked their hips together, drawing a moan out of the man. Smirking to himself, he licked Voldemort's neck, tugging down his pants while straddling him.

Pushing the remnants of his clothes away, the Dark Lord gripped the teen's hips, grinding their erections together. The pleasure from the actions made the boy's arms weak, and his elbows gave out. He fell onto the Dark Lord's chest, and subsequently wrapped his arms around the man's neck, pulling him closer while they kissed. Their bare, naked bodies pressed together in a way that Harry had been dreaming of for over a month, leaving him nothing more than a moaning, writhing mess.

Voldemort flipped them over, sensing Harry sudden change from submissive to dominant had faded away, and perfectly fine with the thought. He liked that Harry still scowled at him, wasn't completely given to him. Yet. He believed that even in years to come, that aspect of his Serpent wouldn't change. Even when he completely gave himself to the Dark Lord, surrendered and became his favorite submissive, he would never grow out of that scowl that he so very much enjoyed flashing to Voldemort.

Leaving his lips, the wizard began to kiss over Harry's body, using his teeth to leave angry red marks in places he knew made the teen scream. A smirk danced across his lips at the pleasure he was giving to his serpent, a growl building in the back of his throat at the thoat. "Mmm..." the teen moaned in his ear, spreading his legs to wrap them around his waist, pulling him closer. Shfiting his hips, the male drug their erections together, earning him another moan from the one under him.

Panting, Harry tilted his head back, eyes closed, lips parted as he panted. _"For God's sake... Tom... bloody take me already." _The wizard paused and pulled back slightly to look down at the blushing man, who writhed but glared up at him. _"I've waited too bloody long to sit here and let you dry hump me. I want you in me already, Tom!" _A smirk twisted across his features, and he ran his hands over the teen's body again, in the most dreadfully teasing manner he could. _"TOM!" _he hissed at him, but it was more of a whine than a hiss, only serving to further agitate him.

Voldemort decided to give his Serpent what he wanted, because as tempting as it was to wait hours simply torturing him, it would be torturing himself as well, and he desperately wanted to be buried balls deep into his little serpent's ass. Leaning down, he circled the tip of his tongue around the mark on his neck, pleased to hear his moans increase in pitch. Trailing his fingers up his chest, he pressed three fingers to the teen's lips, who greedily sucked them into his mouth. _"Suck them good, little Serpent, for it is your ass you are saving by doing so..."_

The teen looked up at him, his emerald eyes sparkling in what seemed like innocent playful mischief, and only served to further arouse the man. His tongue dipped between his fingers, wrapping around each digit separately, treating each as he would the man's member, if given the chance. '_That will come soon, little Serpent...' _thought the man, 'v_ery soon._' Harry never broke eye contact with the man, sending shivers down his spine at the intensity of the gaze. He lathered the fingers up with his saliva, making sure to get each and every inch of them covered; as much as he wanted the man in him, he did not wish to be poorly prepared.

When Voldemort decided that his fingers were slicked well enough, he pulled them from Harry's lips, replacing them with his tongue. The teen gave a gentle moan, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him closer, shoving his tongue into the man's mouth, though it was only shoved right back into his own, chased by Voldemort's. Skimming his fingers down the boy's body, he sent shivers down his spine on his way to the teen's rear. Hiking the boy's leg up higher, he teased the ring of muscle that was hesitant to allow him entry, but ultimately yielded to him. Smirking, he gently pushed one finger into the boy,

"MMM!" he moaned, arching his back at the intrusive feeling. It didn't quite feel good, but it didn't especially feel bad. He gripped tightly to the man's shoulders, lifting his legs higher for him, relaxing a little when it eased the tension in his lower back. "Ah..." he breathed lighter, leaning up to continue kissing the man. Giving a little grin, he returned the kiss with no remorse, gently pumping his finger in and out of the boy, stretching him carefully. After all, he had only taken him once, and that had been more than a month previously.

Leaving his mouth, he leaned down to ghost kisses over the mark he had left upon the boy. He shuddered beneath him, arching his back further in an effort to get closer to him. As pleasure from the mark shook his very existance, the boy barely felt Voldemort push another finger into him, but cried out when the man spread his fingers, carefully scissoring them as to not harm him. "Ah!" Voldemort rubbed their noses together, being far more understanding than Harry would have ever thought.

"Shh..." he murmured in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. His mouth didn't stay there for long, nipping back at the mark in a second. The teen cried out, back arching and toes curling.

_"Tom..." _he whined, head tilting to give him more room at his neck to shed affection on the mark. Voldemort smirked, and gave his little serpent what he craved, flicking his tongue over the mark, tracing it with the appendage. "_UGH! Tom!" _The man could feel how his body was quivering, well aware of the signs of a soon-to-some orgasm, and lessened the attention he shed on the mark. Though the boy whined, he only licked up and down his neck, biting in just the places he loved. He made sure to avoid the mark; any further attention and he would be coming sooner than wanted.

Harry panted, back arching as he felt the final finger enter him. _"Bloody hell,Tom!" _he grimaced, jolts of pain shooting up his back from how he spread and curled his fingers. He gritted his teeth, trying to tell himself that in only a matter of seconds everything would feel better, that there would be no more pain...

But he'd lying if he said he didn't enjoy the pain as well. He had a feeling he would take anything if it was coming from Tom. Anything, if coming from him.

Teeth suddenly sank into his neck and he cried out, just as Tom's fingers found his prostate, making his voice far louder than he had ever intended it to be. He could see Tom's smirk even with his eyes closed, how well he knew the man. He ignored it, focusing on the feelings of delightful pleasure as the man stroked his prostate. The sounds coming from his body could not be stopped, no matter how he tried. It was as though his prostate was hardwired to his vocal cords... among other things...

He could feel his cheeks heating up, and his body felt as though it was on fire, despite the cold midnight air nipping at his skin. "Mmm... _Tom..."_ his back arched, sweating in his skin that seemed to be too small and too hot, tight and firey across his flesh. Shuddering at the feel of the man's fingers dancing light patterns across his chest, he moaned and arched into his touch, eager for the soft, cool skin. It seemed to be his only relief, Tom seemed to be his only relief. The thin, cool fingers pressed against his nipples, relieving some of the fire scorching his body, and he groaned at the feel.

Then the fingers that had been so soothing on his nipple suddenly turned violent, digging nails in and twisting at the same time. The pain flooded his system, and he did the only thing he could.

He came.

Voldemort smirked when his chest was splattered with the teen's cum, stroking his prostate to help him ride the orgasm to its fullest extent. The boy trembled beneath him, emerald orbs hazy from his pleasure, completely limp. Leaning down, he licked a few droplets that had fallen onto the teen's chest, savoring in his salty taste. Blinking up at him, Harry licked his lips, spreading his legs a little more, already halfway erect again. _"Now will you take me, Tom?"_

The man shifted, hiking his legs up a little higher and jerking his fingers out. While Harry whined at the lack of contact, the man whispered a spell that lubed his length. Giving the teen no warning, he thrust his full dick into him, pausing only once fully sheathed. Green orbs flew open, tears budding at the corners from the sudden pain. Biting his lip, he moaned, gripping Voldemort's shoulder so tightly he drew tiny half moon cresents of blood to the surface.

The man waited only a minute, as long as he could, before he drew out and pushed back in, the teen's cries bouncing across the grounds of Hogwarts. He could hardly care if his serpent was being too loud, all he cared about was the scolding vice grip around his cock. Leaning down, he crashed he and his serpent's lips together, stealing his breath from his lungs as he thrusted in again, faster, harder this time. The teen cried out, wrapping his arms tightly around him and drawing him closer.

For a while, they were both lost in the thrust and pull of sex, lost to each others grip, their grasp on reality loosening. Then that pressure began to build up, low in their abdomens, signalling that soon they were both going to finish. Harry gritted his teeth, gripping harder at Voldemort's shoulder, who in turn gripped his hips and pounded in harder. _"Fuck..."_ Harry hissed, and the wizard bowed his back, resting his head on his shoulder while he pounded in deeper. _"Merlin..." _he whispered, body rocking back and forth from the force of the thrusts. He knew he was going to have some sort of friction burn, on various parts of his body. He didn't really care.

This was Voldemort. The Dark Lord Voldemort. Tom. This was what he had been dreaming about for over a month, the man that was in him, at that moment! All repercussions aside, this was all he wanted in the world. Tom pounded into his asshole with all of his might, giving him that sense, that feeling that, for once, he didn't need to do a damn thing. He wasn't a savior, he wasn't the chosen one. He was Harry bloody Potter, and he was the Dark Lord Voldemort's submissive.

That was all he needed in life.

Finally, everything became too great, and he shot his load in a burst of white all over their chests, coming at the same time as Tom. He groaned at the feel of the man's seed filling him, and clenched his ass shut in an effort to stop it from leaking out. Voldemort's lips returned to his neck, kissing and nipping at the mark, making the boy instantly hard again, as sensitive as he was at the moment. He could feel Tom smirking against his neck, but could hardly bring himself to care. It felt mighty damn good, and he was going to self indulge, for once in his life.

Then Tom sank his teeth into the mark, and for the first time in his life, he came from simply... that. He screamed so loud his vocal cords gave out, his back arching so far he thought it might break, and every ounce of energy left his body, leaving him limp, and more boneless than the time in his second year at Hogwarts with Gilderoy Lockheart. He panted, laying near lifeless on the cold stones of the Astronomy Tower, still filled by Voldemort, and he could honestly say that not once in his life had he felt any more alive than at that moment.

Voldemort smirked down at him, leaning down to gently press their lips together. Lazily, the boy returned the gesture, but couldn't find the energy to put any real feeling into it, though his entire heart was laid bare for the man to see. Chuckling, the wizard drew away, staying sheathed in his tight hole, shivering himself at the heat. He rested beside him, drawing him to face him, lifting one leg over his hip to be more comfortable for the teen. Honestly, the teen could care less, he just wanted to be held by the wizard at the moment.

Relaxing, Harry breathed in the man's scent, filing it to memory. He looked up lazily, tiredly, as he felt a hand soothing back his hair. The man smirked down at him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. _"Sleep little Serpent. I'll remain with you tonight..."_ Sleepily, the teen nodded, his too long unruly dark locks falling perfectly around his face. Voldemort watched him, his expression softening once he was sure the teen was asleep.

It had been far too long since he had seen his Serpent.

**A/N: Well? Do you like? Feedback please (:**


	6. Chapter 6

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second one ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:  
DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have any problem with any of these things, are too young or too immature to read this, go away.  
That's what the back button is for. I don't need flamers, and I promise you, I'm not gonna give a rats butt  
if you don't like my writing or this pairing. Cuz for every one of you, there is at least four that do.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do in fact own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.  
So go bother JK Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it.**

**A/N: Quick, but long update. I like how this turned out, just proof reading it and posting it before I go to bed (: I stayed up all of the past two nights writing this, i\I'm exhausted! As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcome!**

Harry nuzzled under the Dark Lord's chin, arms around his neck, one leg thrown over the man's side. It was still late, or early, however you wanted to look at it. The sun had yet to rise, so it was chilly on the Astronomy Tower. However, Voldemort made sure that the chilled air was kept at bay, a simple spell easily keeping his Serpent warm. Tracing patterns into his back, he hummed his approval when he felt that Harry was waking again. It was nearly 7:30, a little later than the serpent normally woke, but he had plenty of time before classes, which started at 9.

Though the man was not quite sure he was going to release his Serpent to go to class.

The teen stretched then gasped when he felt the man still inside him, stirring his insides. "Mmm..." He bit his lip, slowly opening his emerald orbs to gaze up at the man that had not once taken his eyes off him. Blushing lightly, he looked away, but tightened his arms around the wizard's neck, drawing him closer. He chuckled, and the boy said in a mumbled voice, _"Good morning, Tom..." _'Tom' stiffened inside of him at the sound of their language, bringing another gasp from his lips. "Mmm..." He closed his eyes, tucking his head back under his chin.

Chuckling, Voldemort ran his fingers through the teen's too-long hair, gently tugging at the ends of it. _"Good morning, my little Serpent." _Harry shuddered at the words whispered into his ear, looking up at the man with wide, still sleepy emerald eyes. The man smirked, leaning down to gently press their lips together. A moan escaped the teen's lips, and he tightened his grip on the man's neck, pulling him down while pushing himself up, crashing their lips hard together.

The man followed suit, quickly dominating his Serpent in the kiss, leaving him breathless in a matter of seconds. The boy's toes curling, he lifted his legs to push the man further inside of him, both groaning at the feel of such. Voldemort clutched him tighter, shifting his hips to drive his quickly hardening cock further into the boy, making him gasp and moan, tangling his fingers into his hair. "Ah..."

They kissed for a matter of minutes, before Harry pulled away and rested his head on his chest, panting heavily. Chuckling again, the Dark Lord combed his fingers back through his hair, rubbing his back in a soothing manner. Face a tad bit flushed, the teen look up at him, a million questions bubbling at his lips, yet he was hesitant to disturb the comfortable silence they sat in. It was nice, to just be able to sit there with someone and not have to worry about what they thought of you.

He wasn't quite sure exactly what Voldemort thought of him, but he didn't really care, to be honest.

_"Speak your thoughts, little Serpent,"_ He pressed his lips to the teen's forehead, who released a sigh of breath, relaxing at the feel. The teen very much so enjoyed the fact that Tom only spoke to him in their language; it made their conversations feel all that much more intimate.

Clearing his throat, he looked up at him with _Avada Kedavra_ green eyes, and the man flashed back, if only for a second, to how those eyes had looked on an infant, when he had whispered those very words that nearly cost him his own life. A shudder ran down his spine as he thought of how it had felt, to be hit with his own killing curse. Still... ultimately, it had made him stronger, and now, from that pain, he now had this magnificent creature he called his own. This Serpent was rightfully his, and not a damn person could do a damn thing about it.

After smirking inwardly to himself at how good that felt to think, he turned his attention back on the boy.

_"How in the bloody hell are you accomplishing this? You're on the grounds of Hogwarts, for God's sake!" _The man only smirked, a smug glint to his crimson eyes.

_"That old fool doesn't know every secret there is to this old castle, and not every trick up my sleeve. I can do a great many things he has claimed are impossible."_ Harry believed him wholeheartedly, but couldn't help but feel a little anxious; just because the man didn't know he could get on the grounds didn't mean he didn't know he was there. As if reading his thought, which he probably did, the man continued, _"And if the old fool did know I was here... why hasn't he done anything? My little Serpent, I have thought this through. I am not as much a fool as you believe I am."_

Harry grinned, his cocky and playful side sparking, _"Well... you said it, not me_." His buttocks was swatted playfully, and bucked forward, jerking the man inside him while doing so. He gave a light gasp at the feel, but Tom full out moaned, drawing his attention up to his face, his curiosity peaking. Watching him this time, he bit his own lip to stifle his sounds and bucked again, heat rising in his body in response to the sounds the wizard made.

_"Harry..." _the man said warningly. He couldn't help an impish grin at the tone, leaning up to press their lips together. Returning the pressure, he cupped the back of his head, drawing him closer.

Giving a light sigh, the teen pulled away, resting his head against him. _"So... now what?" _Voldemort quirked an eyebrow at him, as though unaware of what he meant, though Harry knew he knew. After all, there were very few things in this world he was unaware of, and none of those things pertained to him. It seemed as though the Dark Lord knew everything there was to know about him, even more so than he knew. Growling, he rolled his eyes, _"Well? Did you break into what is supposed to one of the most secure places on earth simply to shag me?"_

A grin twisted across the face of the most powerful person Harry had ever known to walk the earth. _"And if I say yes?"_ Rolling his eyes, Harry slightly pushed away from him.

"I'd call you a liar." He adopted the English language again, and did not miss the spark of anger that flashed in crimson eyes. The anger quickly faded though, but the man jerked him closer, not allowing him to move an inch away.

Following suit, Voldemort replied in the blocky language he didn't like to use. It didn't flow as well; it didn't transmit the same feeling through words. "If there is one thing this Dark Lord is not, it is a liar." Omitting certain truths and withholding information was not lying; it was being tactful. Rolling his eyes, Harry quirked an eyebrow up at him, demanding without words he continue. "I came here to take you as I have have been dreaming of." Harry shuddered, licking his lips while he listened.

"However, where we go from here is completely up to you."

Eyebrows knitting, the teen shifted a little, unsure of what he had meant. _"W... what do you mean?"_ He naturally fell back into the routine of speaking Parseltongue with the man, even when he tried not to. It had become such a habit. That was probably going to get him in trouble someday, because it was becoming natural to speak the language. He had caught himself hissing under his breath to his uncle over the summer. That had been one hell of a beating, for how 'unnatural' he was.

Drawing his thoughts back to the present, the wizard brushed a hand across his cheek, enticing the teen to look up at him. _"What I mean is exactly that, my little Serpent." _He shuddered again, unable to tear his eyes away from the crimson gaze keeping him hostage. _"Where I-we go from here is entirely up to you." _ His heart leapt to his throat as he saw where the man was going before he got the words out of his mouth. _"Come with me, or stay here with them. This is up to you." _

His pulse thundered in his ears, his heart racing as he thought out all of the possibilities. On one hand... going with Tom was the only thing he wanted in life. He didn't want this saving-the-world business, he didn't want Dumbledore and his lies, Ron and his jealousy, Hermione and her pushy attitude. All he wanted was what the man was offering. Voldemort was offering everything he had ever wanted and more. He seemed to be crazy for even considering anything else.

On the other hand... Hogwarts was his home. He hadn't completed his education, wasn't a qualified wizard yet. There was more he could learn from the castle, from his lessons. Even with Dumbledore, and Ron, and Hermione... the castle itself was worth it. He didn't want to leave it, not ever. If he wouldn't become an Auror, he had thought of being a teacher, simply to be able to stay in the castle for life. There were people here he would miss, too. The twins... was that it? He tried wracking his brain for other people he would miss, but it was mostly the twins.

Harry didn't know which to choose. He wanted to say yes so bad, to throw everything to the wind and never release Voldemort for all eternity. At the same time, he wanted to say no, to stay where he was in his little world. Even if it was a life he didn't like, it was a life he knew, and though he aspired for more, he was hesitant to take that step out of line to change his own destiny.

Voldemort could see the internal struggle going on in the boy, and soothed his hair back. _"Serpent... there is nothing for you to worry your head over. Your don't have to decide now. I will be back for your ultimate decision tonight, where we rest now. However, just so you know," _he leaned forward, resting their foreheads together and soothing him. _"You will not be leaving this school forever. You and I shall conquer the world, this school itself being the first we take. Until that time, if you come with me, you will continue receiving lessons from only the best. _

_ "You can expand your knowledge, learn the things you want to learn, the things that you are required to learn in order to survive in this world, unlike what they teach here. Harry, if you do decide to come with me, do not think it will be the last time you walk through these halls. Remember, this place is my home too." _The boy nodded, staring up at him with wide, unsure eyes. Cupping his cheek, his voice turned soothing, _"You don't need to decide now, my little Serpent. You have all day to decide. Think this over, don't make a snap decision." _

The teen nodded, resting into his touch. It was soothing, knowing that the wizard wasn't forcing him to decide, or making the decision for him. He closed his eyes when he felt the man's fingers tracing gentle patterns down his spine, massaging his aching lower back. "Mmm..." he moaned, relaxing into the touch. Voldemort had such a way with words, it was hard for him to think of anything else. However... still, it was a heavy decision. Turning his head, he nuzzled into the man, who smirked down at him but gave no other response.

The two laid quietly together, simply enjoying the other's presence. Harry was loathe to go back into the castle and to his classes, where he would have to deal with his 'friends' again. Voldemort was loathe to leave and return to his headquarters, where he would have to deal with the idiots that were his 'Death Eaters'. Both were more than content to lay on the Astronomy Tower, gazing at the quickly rising sun.

_"Tom?"_ he hissed the name, tilting his head up to look up at him. Quirking a dark eyebrow, he tilted his head down to meet his Serpent's green eyes.

_"Yes?" _

The question bubbled at his lips, yet he was hesitant to say it aloud, no matter how desperately he wished for an answer. Glancing down again, the Dark Lord quirked his eyebrow higher. _"Speak, my little Serpent." _

Licking his lips, he glanced away, summoning the courage to ask him. Gritting his teeth, his head snapped back up and he met the wizard's gaze, his emerald eyes shimmering in determination. _Oh well. It's now or never. "Why me?" _the man blinked down at him, and he ventured further. _"Why on Earth did you choose me, of all people, Voldemort?" _Amusement flickered across his face, his look turning to that of a predator. _"There are many people in this world, closer to your age..." _

Shifting, he pinned his Serpent on his back, arms pulled above his head, legs apart while the wizard kneeled between them. For the first time since they had finished the earlier that night, the man was no longer buried in the boy. He gasped, filled with a strangely empty feeling at the loss. Smirking, Voldemort began to hiss at him, well aware that he was clenching his asshole in an effort to feel... well, not full, but less empty.

_"I chose you, Harry Potter, for the plain and simple fact that you are who you are." _Eyebrows knitting, Harry mulled over the words. It didn't make sense to him. Voldemort saw the confusion on his face, and continued, _"I placed my mark upon you when you were but a year old. At that moment in time, you became mine." _A shudder ran down the teen's spine at the words. Seeing such, a grin twisted onto the man's face as he continued. _"I have been lenient, allowing you to do as you wished, allowing the world to claim you as theirs. _

Growling deep in his throat, his eyes flashed in anger, _"However, I am through with allowing such. You are mine," _he hissed the word, bringing his face close to the teen's. _"It's about damn time you and the world know it." _Licking his lips, the pale teen shuddered, his eyes fluttering closed only to open again, looking up at him with disbelief in his emerald eyes. _"What?" _the man demanded, growling down at him.

Looking away, he replied, _"Well... it just seems unlikely. After all, my entire life I've been told I wasn't wanted. To think that you want me... It just doesn't fit right in my brain." _Smirking, the man leaned down so their lips were barely brushing.

_"Then, I shall just have to re-mold you brain in order for you to see such. This Dark Lord does not lie, Harry. What I say, I mean. You are mine. You might as well just accept it already." _Emerald orbs flicked back and forth between the wizard's red ones, steady as they searched for any sign, any hint of a lie. They found no trace of such.

Closing his eyes, he tilted his head away, his cheeks aflame. Smirking, the man took pleasure in seeing his serpent in such a way. He found it endearing, cute even. Pinned beneath him with no hope of escaping, naked as the day he was born, cheeks bright red. He found another interesting fact about his Serpent. When subjected to prolonged blushing, the boy not only turned red on his cheeks, but the tips of his ears, and across his collarbones as well.

Leaning down, he pressed an open mouthed kiss to each of his collarbones, biting back his purr of excitement at his Serpent's sounds. Controlling himself, he lifted his head and looked deep into the eyes of the only man that walked the earth that was his equal. He could not wait to get his serpent's true power to the surface, tapping into what was hidden beneath. He would give him way to control it, his passion fueling his magic.

Those days were going to be pure heaven.

The world would fall at their feet. Surely, it would attempt to resist at first, but once the almighty Hogwarts fell, the world would come crashing down around it. He already had infiltrated the Ministry of Magic; that would be of no consequence, no trouble at all. Once Britain fell, then would come Europe, then would come the world! Simply thinking of it got him excited, made him itching to tear the limbs off of something living.

Rays from the morning sun fell across Harry's face, breaking the man of his reverie. Smirking, he touched his nose to the teen's, pulling away to release him. Blinking, the boy looked at him curiously, obviously not expecting the man to let him go anytime soon. A playful expression darted across the wizard's face, "The sun is rising quickly; it is now past 8. I suppose I will be... nice," he sneered the word, "and not make you late. Now, run off before I decide that it isn't worth it." Harry wasn't sure why the wizard had suddenly changed his language to English, but didn't question it.

Quirking an eyebrow, the teen slowly stood up, redressing slowly while watching Voldemort. While he was watching for any sudden movement, and explanations for this sudden, new development, he was unaware that he was arousing the man, who was redressing as well. Combing his fingers through his hair, the man turned on him when he was buttoning up the last of his shirt buttons. Flicking his wrist, the Invisibility Cloak flew through the air and landed in his hand.

Seeing the Cloak in the man's hand, Harry instantly became apprehensive. He could simply leave with the cloak, and then where would he be? He would be stranded on the Astronomy Tower in his night clothes, without a way to get back to his dorm unseen. It would be just like Tom to do that, leave him with no way to get back to his dorm but to traipse around in front of the entire castle in his pajamas. Gritting his teeth, he held out his hand. "Give it to me, Tom." Ignoring him, the man ran his fingers over the material, his expression that of one who had finally figured a long troubling problem out. "Now, Tom."

Tom looked up at him, smirking a little while holding it out for him. Scowling, Harry snatched it away, running his hands over it as if to see if Voldemort had done anything to it. "So, that's how you've done it all these years... with a Cloak of Invisibility from the Grim Reaper himself." Seeing the confused look on the boy's face, he waved a hand dismissively. Leaning forward, the man pressed his lips to his forehead.

Cupping his face, he stared deep into green eyes, awakening an emotion deep inside of the teen that he had never felt before and wasn't quite sure how to describe. "Have a good day, _my little serpent._" His hand still on the pale cheek, he could feel the boy's shudder when he switched languages again. _"I eagerly await your decision." _Leaning down, he pressed his lips to Harry's, roughly, in a searing, dominating kiss that curled his toes in seconds. Reaching up, Harry made to wrap his arms around him, to pull him closer...

Only for the Dark Lord to disappear, leaving him standing alone on the Astronomy Tower.

"DAMNIT!" he cursed, stumbling forward. Glancing around, he verified he was truly alone before screaming out, "FUCK YOU, THEN, TOO!" at the man that was no longer there. Growling to himself, he wrapped his Invisibility Cloak around himself, darting back down the steps into the castle, cursing the bloody Dark Lord the entire way.

* * *

Tugging at his tie, Harry glanced around the classroom. It was hot in there, which was doing nothing for his 'good' mood. Gritting his teeth angrily, he once again attempted to ignore Ron's complaints of how hot it was. Fury boiled deep in his chest, and he was finding that it was becoming more difficult by the second not to cold clock the ginger across his face. Sure, a hex or a curse was nice for everyday occasions, but once in a while, someone just needed to be punched.

The bell rang, dismissing them, and Harry leapt from his seat, shoving his stuff back in his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he wasted no time getting to the door and out of that classroom. One more second in Ron's presence and he was going to lose it. "Harry!" _Ugh. Lovely_. There was Hermione, arms holding her books crossed over her chest, right behind him. He could practically _smell _her, a scent of old books and that nasty muggle lotion she put on her hands that she swore by but didn't work.

He hurried around the corner, acting as though he didn't hear her. Besides Ron, she was the last person he wanted to see at that moment. Rounding the corner, he didn't realize until too late that someone else was too, and ran full out into a blonde male, knocking them both back onto the ground. "Arg!" he cried out, dropping his bag. "_Shit_!" he hissed out, the word coming naturally to him. His ass still hurt after that night with Tom, especially with sleeping still connected. Even though it hurt like nobody's business, it was the empty feeling that was killing him.

"Watch where the hell you're going, Potter!" The words were spat at him by Malfoy, who was straightening his robes while standing up, running his hand over his hair to slick his hair back, making sure not a hair was out of place. The aristocrat glared down at him like he was dirt on the bottom of his shoes while he struggled to get to his feet, pain from his rear shooting up his back. When he placed a hand on his lower back and another on the wall to help him up, Malfoy scoffed, quirking an eyebrow. "Oh, has little Potty grown old?" his words were mocking, his tone condescending.

That was the last straw.

Launching himself at the teen, he reared back and punched him as hard as he could in his face. A second before he made contact, he watched with glee as the 'ferret's face twisted into shock and horror, his mouth opening to scream. Before he could get the sound out of his throat, however, Harry's fist connected with his face, knocking him to the ground. In the corridor that was usually bustling with activity, so loud that one could not hear themselves thinking, the only sound found was the smack of fist to face, then the thud of Malfoy hitting the ground.

When the blonde hit the ground, he just laid there, slowly rocking side to side, clutching his face, whimpering. The hallway still silent, the students merely looked on, though they expected it to be over. Oh not, not by far. Malfoy had not laid there for three seconds when suddenly Harry was on top of him, pinning him to the ground and letting loose. His fists came in a barrage of pain, breaking the boy's pretty face in seconds. Draco began screaming, for help or for him to get off, Harry wasn't sure, but god was it annoying. Rearing back, he struck him so hard he broke his already fractured jaw.

This time, Harry was sure he cried out in pain.

Students crowded around the two, cheering them on or calling for teachers. Not a single person was idiotic enough to try and stop him. Personally, most of them believed Draco deserved it. Even Ron was cheering Harry on, though Hermione was calling out his name in hopes of stopping him. It didn't work. As a matter of fact, the more she cried out his name, the more and the harder he punched the boy under him.

"OUT OF THE WAY!" bellowed Snape, shoving his way through the students. At the sight of him, most first and second years fled, the third years backing away slightly. All of the upper classes moved out of his way, but made no move to leave. "POTTER!" he screamed upon reaching the scene. Harry did not acknowledge him, nor did he stop. If anything, he began pounding on him harder, teeth gritted, emerald eyes flashing in anger. "POTTER!" he bellowed louder, approaching from behind and wrapping his arms around the teen, lifting him away from the Slytherin, arms pinned to his sides.

Though unable to punch him any longer, Harry got in one good kick before completely removed of the boy.

Snape began to shout at him, but he didn't hear, his attention still focused on Draco. McGonagall, who happened to be nearby, rushed over to the blonde's aide, helping him to sit up and seeing what was broken. The corridor erupted into loud chaos, as it should have been the entire time since the bell had rang. The boy glanced over at Harry, who was still being restrained. His fear now dissolved since adults were there, he sneered silently at the boy, giving him the same 'dirt' look.

Growling, Harry launched himself forward, not to get away (as he knew he couldn't) but to draw the frightened attention of the boy that had looked away. He looked back, grey eyes wide in fear, and a malicious grin twisted across the Gryffindor's face. Locking eyes with him, Draco could see the furious insanity swirling in the emerald depths as he began to speak, in a language he did not know. However, the boy shoved his way into Draco's mind, hissing the words so he could understand them as he said them aloud.

"_Listen here, ferret boy,_" he paused to grin, mocking the boy for their fourth year encounter with Mad-Eye Moody, "_You look at me like that one more bloody time and I'll have your bloody head on a silver platter._" Enjoyment riddled his chest at the look on the boy's face, his expression an effect of the language he spoke, and the fact that he could understand it! "_I'll have the house elves cook it, and then I'll feed it to Tom for breakfast!_" His grin broadened, the insanity showing more clearly on his face, planting mental pictures into Draco's mind.

The blonde screamed loudly, jerking back away from him, clamping his eyes shut and putting his hands over his ears childishly. Grinning, Harry straightened back up, arms still pinned to his sides by Snape. "Aw, does the little baby ferret need his mommy?"

The entire corridor had fallen silent, the teachers meeting each other's eyes over the heads of the students, unsure of what to do. Finally, Snape broke the silence, jerking Harry away. "Come on, Potter. You've got a date with detention I would detest for you to miss." The boy said nothing, head held high, grin proudly displayed across his face as they pushed through the students. He didn't really know where Snape was taking him, but he didn't really care.

He felt damn good! Not a bloody thing was going to change that either. His grin broadened, and he couldn't hold down the chuckle that worked its way up his throat from his chest. It didn't remain a chuckle, though. Before they were fully down the corridor, his head was thrown back, mouth open wide as he cackled, feeling as though not a force in the world could stop him.

Not even the Dark Lord Voldemort.

**A/N: Alright, thoughts? Did I overdo it? I'm almost afraid I did, but I think it was necessary. Too many things have been pressing Harry lately, he'll be alright in a bit. Maybe.**

**So, what's your thought/ideas on Snape? Is he bad? Should he be? What's he going to do? Hm? I'm always curious as to what you have to say (: **


	7. Chapter 7

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second one ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:  
DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have any problem with any of these things, are too young or too immature to read this, go away.  
That's what the back button is for. I don't need flamers, and I promise you, I'm not gonna give a rats butt  
if you don't like my writing or this pairing. Cuz for every one of you, there is at least four that do.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do in fact own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.  
So go bother JK Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it.**

**A/N: Alright, I am so very sorry the wait. I'm in process of moving(ish) and where I've been I have no access to Internet. Therefore, this has been sitting on my computer for a while now, waiting to be updated. Then, after I was (somewhat) settled down and had access to Internet, FF was a butthead and refused to let me update, for some reason. Again, no smut, but plot progress! Because, I, for one, believe that plot is just as important as the smut, even if the smut is delicious (: Thank you to my reviewers, who are the ones who have kept me going these though times, so, if you would please, press that little button and tell me what you thought? (: Thanks!**

Detention. Harry hated that word. Especially when uttered by the greasy haired 'professor' Snape. Those were always so very pleasant. _Yes, about as pleasant as that boil on Aunt Marge's bum, _Harry thought bitterly. His hands were burning from having to sort out unidentified parts of dead animals into three separate bins. One for rotten, one for useable, and one for the ones he was unsure of. Thankfully, he was nearly finished.

Glancing around himself, he cursed the dark dungeons under his breath. He truly detested them. Looking up, his green eyes settled on the Potion's Master, who sat at his desk with a quill in hand. It seemed to Harry he was grading papers; he could see little splotches of red ink flying at how fast the quill was swirling across each page. Eager to wash his hands of the foul, sticky, burning liquid that stuck to his hands, he cleared his throat. The man didn't look up at him, but he spoke anyway.

"I'm done now, Professor. Can I go now?" He waited, watching the man who continued to ignore him, reading the next essay in his pile, drops of red ink flying as he graded it. Pressing his lips together in annoyance, he glanced around himself again, searching for the time. Finding no clock to read such from, he turned his gaze back to the man in front of him. "Professor?" he called again, a little louder. When the man still did not look up, he growled under his breath and exclaimed louder, "Professor!"

Finally, the man slowly looked up at him, his dark eyes seeming to be swirling in anger, though it did nothing to frighten the boy. Setting his quill down, he slowly rose from his chair to make his way over to Harry, with the same deliberate slowness he used when ignoring the boy. He could basically feel the boy's anger rolling off of him in waves, and made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. As soon as they made eyes contact, it wasn't Harry that sat before him in his dungeon; instead, it was his mother, glaring up at him with anger swirling in her brilliant green eyes, her mouth turned down in frustration.

Tearing his eyes away, he took a deep breath while looking around his dungeon again. Glancing back over, he eyed the teen up and down, but did not meet his gaze. Yes, most definitely it was Harry, not Lily that sat before him. Never would he ever forget the scent she always carried, like a gentle breeze on the wind. Even when they were surrounded by the heavy scent of numerous potions, he could always make out her gentle scent. The boy that sat before him was undoubtably her child; he could still smell him, even over the potions. While it was not an unpleasant scent, it was not what he seeked.

Looking down at the bins, he scowled. "Mr. Potter?" The boy looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow, a scowl dancing at his lips. Gesturing to the third bin, he said, "Why is there hearts, toes, and livers in this bin?" Following his gaze, the teen peered into the bin before looking up at him with a look that clearly insulted his intelligence.

"You told me to put the ones I wasn't sure of into that bin," the tone he used was similar to that used on an especially slow student, and grated on the Potion Master's nerves.

"Yes, but only for the time being. You were to go back and reexamine them, then properly sort them." The teen openly scowled at him, his emerald eyes narrowing into a glare.

"How the bloody hell am I supposed to tell when I couldn't tell the first time?" he deamnded, fury building at the back of his throat.

Giving a condescending smirk, the man sneered at him, "Smell them again, obviously." With that, he whirled away, he robes following him with a light 'woosh' sound. Growling under his breath, Harry began to smell the organs again, grimacing each time the smell hit his nose, especially as he had to continue to smell them; he wasn't quite sure about any of them. Eventually he just decided which it smelt closest to and threw them into the buckets.

Returning to his desk, Snape regarded the boy carefully, tilting his head so Harry wouldn't be able to tell Snape was watching him. There was something different, something off about the boy. Not only was he treating his friends differently, but he was holding himself different. He still had the Gryffindor pride shining through his being, but there seemed to be... dare he say it... Slytherin spark in his eyes? He wasn't as loud, as boisterous, and seemed to be hiding something. He had been hissing under his breath the entire time, not as though he was speaking to someone, but as though using the snake language had become so natural for him he talked to himself in the tongue.

Concentrating, he preformed the Legilimency Spell nonverbally, without touching his wand, directing it at the boy who sat in his office. Upon entering, he made sure that he was unnoticed, going through the memories of that day, backwards, as though rewinding a tape. The first thing he came across that surprised him was his complete and utter hatred of his so called friends. It surprised him, when they had been so inseparable only a few months before. He made note of it, then continued, dwelling back further through his day.

Going quickly, he hurriedly passed through the day, searching for what on earth had brought him to feel in such a way to his friends. Then, in his first memory of the day, he came across his Dark Lord Voldemort. Nearly gasping aloud, he had to force himself to remain physically unaffected by the memory. It was such a shock to him that he couldn't even form the words to ask the boy anything. Then, he continued to dwell back further, his cheeks slightly darkening when he realized just what his student had been doing with his Dark Lord.

_How long has this been going on? _The man began to fly through his memories, surprise overcoming him more by the second. He could not believe just how active the Dark Lord was as a part of Harry's life. He hardly seemed to go a day without speaking to him, always seemed to have something to say about the boy's life. How had he not seen it? Why was his Lord doing this? Was it a new part of his plan to kill the boy? Why had he not informed his Death Eaters of such?

All in all, he was very much so confused.

Then he came upon the day that Voldemort had first made contact with the boy. Though he was loathe to watch the memory, he went through it carefully, examining the man's every action. There did not seem to be any malice to the man's actions, no intent to harm him. Their act of... well, sex itself seemed to be preformed in such a way as to not hurt the boy. Then, his words uttered at the end of the night seemed more of a promise of protection than a curse of harm upon him.

Very much so confused.

Going through the teen's memories quickly but carefully, in the order they happened, he picked up on the same vibes throughout. Benevolence, not malevolence. Goodwill, not ill. It seemed as though the boy was just as hesitant as he was to believe the man's words, but there did not seem to be any indicator that the man was lying. Snape knew from experience that the man was not a liar. Still... it went against everything he thought the Dark Lord stood for, to extend a hand to the boy.

Looking up, he looked the boy over as he grimaced at the smell of a rotten heart. Shaking his head, he returned to the memories, his apprehension increasing by the second. Though he had not come across any evidence of such, he worried over foul play from the Dark Lord. What if it was simply another one of the man's plans, an easy way to despose of the boy? He had stood beside the man and allowed him to kill the only woman he had ever loved; he was not about to stand by and let him kill her son.

Still... what is it wasn't a rouse? What if he was being completely honest? It was always plausible that the man did honestly, truly want the boy on his side. After all, it would be far easier to make the world fall if Harry Potter joined the Dark side. However, what would happen to the boy after the world fell? It was easy to believe that Voldemort would simply kill him afterwards. The man didn't want to share world domination with anyone. He was a one man band, with an entourage of millions, not a two man show.

Running his fingers through his hair, he looked up at Harry when he abruptly stood, finished sorting the various parts into their proper bins. "I'm finished, and I'm going to bed now." Severus knew it was a lie; he could read him as easily as he could read the essays laying on his desk in front of him. Instead, he was eager to hurry to meet Voldemort on the Astronomy Tower. After changing his foul smelling clothes and showering first, of course.

Clearing his throat, he sat up a little straighter, unsure of whether to tell Dumbledore or allow Harry to go about his way. Pressing his lips together, he nodded, waving a hand to dismiss him to run to his dormitory. "Thanks," the word almost seemed genuine, not uttered with sarcasm or distaste; probably thankful he didn't keep him any longer. Just because he had allowed him to leave did not mean he was sure about allowing him to go with Voldemort, especially without alerting Dumbledore to his presence.

"Potter," he called, when the teen was at the door. Groaning under his breath, he paused and turned to look at the man, an unspoken 'what?' on his features. Clearing his throat nervously, the man continued, "Sometimes it is to ourselves we owe our actions. Sometimes to others. Every action has a consequence, even if not seen immediately. Think things through before rushing into a decision you cannot change after making."

He watched Lily's eyes widen, fear flickering across the face of her son before he turned his gaze back on the papers that were to be graded. He waited until he heard the door close before leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. For once in his life, he did not know what was the right decision. He had _known _it was the right decision to befriend Lily. He had _known_ it was the right decision to join the Death Eaters. He had _known_ it was the right decision to spy for Dumbledore on Voldemort, for Voldemort on Dumbledore.

He did not _know_ what to do right now.

Should he let Lily's son run into Voldemort's open arms, when it seemed that was all he wanted to do? Should he stop him? Did he have the right to stop him? After all, it seemed as though Dumbledore was growing more senile by the day. The longer the war played out, the clearer it was for him to see that Dumbledore was going to turn Harry into a martyr for the Light. He could not let that happen, let the old man kill Harry for the good of wizardkind. Then again, was letting the boy go to Voldemort any different?

"Oh, Lily, what the bloody hell should I do?" he mumured under his breath. She seemed to be on his mind more often lately than usual, but that was to be expected. When suddenly staring into her eyes everyday after watching her die everytime he closed his eyes, it was understandable that he thought of her often. Intervening itself was a dangerous thing; obviously his Dark Lord did not want anyone to know what he had planned, or he would have told someone. Lucius would have (probably) been his first choice to tell, and the man would have told him.

If Lucius did not know, no one knew. It would not be good for him to be making a stir about it. So it nixed the idea of calling the man up and discussing it with him. After all, it was nice to have someone to go through the pros and cons of the action. However, Lucius would probably tell him to let the boy go to their Dark Lord. After all, who were they to deny Him anything He wanted?

They were but His loyal servants.

Heaving a sigh, he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and withdrew a bottle of his favorite Firewhiskey and a small glass. Setting both on his desk, he rested back in his chair with a sigh. Pouring himself half a glass, he drew it to his lips and took a sip, relishing in the burning fire that swept down his throat. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back, his mind swirling with the numerous possibilities. Sometimes, being a Legilimens was a curse. Sometimes, he really hated it.

However, he would have preferred to know of this beforehand than be among the shocked idiots that stood around dumbly when Harry suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth. Vaguely, he wondered why his Dark Lord hadn't had Harry learn Occlumency. After all, it wasn't as though the boy was particularly gifted in keeping his thoughts from anyone, and if Dumbledore came across him, then he would know instantly what was happening. Perhaps He hadn't been planning on the boy staying in Hogwarts long enough to encounter the old man.

_Of course! _He sat straight up, the answer coming to him in a rush. He had seen the mark on his neck, but hadn't really noted it, dismissing it to those 'tattoos' that muggles were so found of getting. He chastised himself, for not noticing it earlier for what it truly was. _The Mark of Ouroboros..._ So that was why He hadn't forced the teen to learn Occlumency! It was unneeded! He knew of the various spells preformed with that mark, and only one of those required the mark on the neck.

It put his mind at ease, knowing finally what the man wanted in him. Taking another sip of Firewhiskey, he relaxed back in his chair. The mark... it stopped anyone from being able to enter his mind unbidden, among other things. It was a mark of possession, similar to the Dark Mark on his arm. However, he knew that Harry was much more than simply a Death Eater, now that he knew about the mark. Taking another sip, he wondered if Voldemort was finally tapping into the most powerful kind of magic of all.

* * *

Harry felt his pulse thundering in his ear, shaken to his core. Did Snape know? It certainly seemed that way, with the words he had spoken. Was it a warning? Was he telling him not to go? Was he telling him to go? Merlin, it was so frustrating! Not to mention nerve wracking. If he knew, he could tell Dumbledore. If he told Dumbledore, the old coot would stop him! Or at least, he would try to. He wasn't sure the measures Tom would take to stop such. He truly didn't want anyone to die, not even that fool.

He all but ran to his dormitory, eager to snag clothes to change into. After all, he still had to shower, and it was already 11 o'clock. Tom had said midnight, he believed, and he didn't like to be kept waiting. Before he left, he still had to shower, among other things. He didn't know what to bring, if he should pack his trunk and meet him there, or just bring his broom and Invisibility Cloak.

"Ugh," he muttered under his breath, rushing around the castle. He carried his Invisibility cloak, but didn't have it on; he didn't want it absorb the smell. Instead, he held the Marauders' Map in front of him, glancing down at it every few seconds to ensure that no one that would get him in trouble was near.

Luckily, he ran into no one on his way to the Prefect's bathroom, so it was without incident that he bathed. Still, his mind raced, thoughts of Snape and Voldemort racing through his brain, along with, oddly enough, his 'friends'. He wondered how they would react to his being gone. Would they cry? Would they mourn? Even if it was only for show? If they did, it would probably be because Dumbledore told them to, for publicity reasons. Scrubbing viciously at his scalp in the scalding water, he growled under his breath.

The very idea infuriated him.

The teen wondered vaguely if Dumbledore, supposing Snape didn't tell him, would know that he willingly went with Voldemort. Even if he did, he wondered if he would go public with the news. Most likely not; people would give up hope. He would probably tell the news papers that he had been abducted. Even then, Harry couldn't see him doing that; Hogwarts was supposed to be the most secure place on Earth. If Voldemort could get in there, he could get in anywhere. There would be mass panic if the general public knew about it.

However, that was of no consequence to him; he didn't care what the fool told everyone. Undoubtably, there would have to be a story made. He just wondered what it would be. Dunking under the water, he rinsed his soapy hair, smelling his hands to ensure that he didn't smell like rotten organs any longer. Pleased that he didn't, he climbed out of the Olympic pool sized bathtub, waving his wand over himself and muttering a hot air spell to dry himself.

Redressing, he ventured out with his mind, calling out, _Tom?_ He was not immediately answered, which led him to believe that the man wasn't at Hogwarts yet. Pulling his Invisibility Cloak over himself, he pocketed the map into his pocket. _Tom? _he called out again, a little louder this time as he carefully exited the bathroom. Still, he received no answer, and bit his bottom lip. He was aware the man could simply be busy, just as he also knew he could be forcibly being kept away. Just as he could have been messing with his head when he told him that he had come to take him away.

That thought bothered him to his core.

Glancing around himself, he carefully made his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. He was just reaching the portrait when he received an answer from the man. _Where are you, my little Serpent? _A shudder raced down his spine and he had to bite his lip to keep from smiling at the sound of the man's voice.

_I am by my Common Room. Not on my way yet. _He could feel the man's displeasure, and moved onto the topic at hand. _What do I need to bring? Everything? I could simply shrink my trunk and bring it... _he trailed off, waiting for the hand to respond.

_No... No, just bring anything that isn't replaceable. _Nodding, he exposed just his head to the Fat Lady, who looked at him, quite startled, clutching her chest. "Honestly, boy! Don't you know the meaning of the word sleep?" Ignoring her, he muttered the password under his breath, and she grudgingly swung open, calling to him, "One of these days I'm going to stop opening for you, you know!"

_Not my problem anymore, _he thought to himself, but heard Tom chuckling in his head. Smirking to himself, he let his Cloak fall into one of his hands, clutching it while he darted up the stairs to his dormitory. Upon reaching the door, he calmed himself, careful not to make any noise when walking in. Thanking his luck, he quietly made his way over to his trunk, squatting down beside it.

Rummaging through it, he remembered Tom's words. _Only things that aren't replaceable..._ he thought to himself, reaching in and grabbing what he considered 'irreplaceable'. Of course the scrapbook of his parents, as they were the only remnants he haf of the people who brought him into the world. His Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map fell atop the book, and he reached into the trunk again, reaching for the Half Blood Prince's book. Though it was a school book, he considered the Prince's insight irreplaceable.

Pausing, he looked into the trunk while biting his lip. He didn't want to forget anything simply because he was rushing. After all, it wasn't as though he could simply pop back in, saying "Oh, I forgot..." Rummaging around, he muttered to himself under his breath. "Now, what else isn't replaceable?" He grabbed his money, though he was sure Tom was going to find that replaceable. He snagged his experimental treats from the Twins as well, setting them in his small pile of items that would follow him to his next world.

"Is that all?" he murmured under his breath, eyebrows knitting as he peered into his trunk. It seemed an awful small collection of things that he considered irreplaceable in this life. "Ugh... I suppose."

"You suppose what?" Ron's sluggish, half asleep voice had a near scream erupting from Harry's chest, startling him to his core. From fright, he jumped to his feet, spinning and pulling his wand on the ginger, who quirked an eyebrow at him sleepily. "Where the hell are ya goin'?" His voice was becoming clearer, he blinked a few times, the sleep leaving his eyes as they narrowed into a glare. "Where the hell are you going?" he demanded, a little louder and clearer this time.

_Shit..._ His pulse thundered in his ears, anxiety pawing at his stomach. _Bloody hell! _"Um... what are you talking about, Ron?" The ginger's eyes narrowed, and Harry watched his cheeks redden as he opened his mouth louder, preparing to start yelling, and wake up everyone in their dormitory.

_Stun him. _

The words in his ear prompted him to do as he was hesitating, the only thing he could truly do in the situation he was in. Raising his wand again, he quickly pointed it at Ron, hoping that he wouldn't make enough racket to wake the gaggle of sleeping teens. "Stupefy," he whispered, staring into Ron's widening eyes as the spell hit him square in the chest. As he fell to the floor, Harry looked down upon him without an ounce of regret. "Sorry, mate," he muttered too low for anyone to hear, "But I'm not about to let you ruin my life."

Spinning around, he pocketed his wand, snatching all of his irreplaceable items from the floor beside his trunk, flumbling with them to throw his Invisibility Cloak over himself. Hissing under his breath, he clutched the items to his chest while he darted out of the door. He was in the nick of time too; he heard Neville rousing from sleep to find Ron on the floor. It wouldn't take them long to find Ron, then to wake Ron, then for Ron to tell them what had happened, what he had done.

So, all in all, he did not have a lot of time to get all of the way up to the Astronomy Tower.

Dismissing the idea of pulling out the Map to help him along the way, he decided it was too much of a hinderance. _I'm just running straight up there. I'm not taking detours, I'm not going back. _Then, as he rounded the final corner to the stairs to the Tower, he realized. _Hedwig! _Skidding to a stop, he spun on his heel and began to dart in the opposite direction. Hedwig was definitely irreplaceable. Ignoring Tom's fury, he darted to the Owlery at full speed.

_What in the bloody hell are you doing, boy?_ the man demanded angrily in his head, his fury clouding the teen's mind. Shaking his head, he hissed back,

_I'm getting my bloody owl! She's irreplaceable!_ Voldemort hissed under his breath, exasperated. The bloody owl would be the death of him yet. Already, he could hear the castle stirring, smell the friction on the air as it awakened. Yet his damned Serpent was running across the castle to the Owlery? It was preposterous, the idea! Growling under his breath, he stepped onto the lip of the Astronomy Tower, taking a deep breath to smell the awakening magic.

No, his Serpent wouldn't have enough time to get all of the way there and back before he would be overcome by Dumbledore's lackeys.

Hissing under his breath, he focused on his magic, using it to twist the air currents under his feet in a way he had long since become familiar with. He stepped out onto the air, gazing ahead of him at his destination. Using the magic that dwelt within him, he powered himself across the grounds of Hogwarts, all of the way to the Owlery. Alighting on the Tower, he licked his lips hungrily at the swirling mass of untameable ancient magic beneath his feet.

_Untameable... We will see about that._

As he surveyed the wakenings of the castle, he felt his Serpent arrive in the Owlery. Growling deep in his throat, he used his magic again to hover beside the window, eyeing the white owl with utter distaste. Then, for the first time in his life, he saw an owl return the look. Scoffing under his breath, he looked away, just as the teen darted into the room.

Panting and heaving from his sprint across the school, Harry thrust his arm out at her, offering her his forearm. "Hedwig. Come on, Hedwig." She eyed him, not in the slightest bit eager to leave her comfortable perch for what was bound to be a hazardous journey that would last for ages. "Hedwig! Now! We have to go!" His eyebrows knitted, glancing around, desperate for her to hurry.

Growing impatient, Voldemort hissed loudly, startling the boy, who hadn't been aware he was there. "Tell that no good, ball of better stuffed feathers that if she does not move now, we're leaving without her. Or better yet, I'll truly get her stuffed." He was shot an 'eat shit' look from the teen, and looked away, rolling his eyes. "_Serpent... it won't be much longer until they are aware I am taking you. Hurry now, before they try and stop you and lives are sacrificed." _He knew Harry was not eager for such, actually quite against the idea of killing someone at the moment.

_In due time, my little Serpent..._ the wizard thought darkly to himself, holding out his hand. "Alright, alright. I'm coming!" Hedwig had just carefully stepped onto his arm, and he threw himself at Voldemort, who caught him with no problems. The owl hooted indignantly, and the wizard hissed under his breath, "_I knew there was a reason that I preferred Serpents to owls..."_

Scowling at him, the teen replied hotly, "Yeah, because owls tell you what they think whether or not you ask." Immaturely mocking his expression, the man pulled him close, sensing the rise in the castle's magic and mimicking it with his own; expanding it, shaping it so it propelled the two across the sky. "My broom..." the teen muttered, looking left to right as though he would suddenly see it coming. Summoning it with his magic, he did not slow for it to catch up.

Grinning ear to ear, Harry reached out and snagged it from the air. Looking up at Tom, his grin widened. Quirking an eyebrow, the man looked down at him with an amused expression. _"Yes?"_

As habit when spoken to in the language, the boy adopted it as well, _"I am excited."_

Chuckling, the man looked ahead of them again, apprehension growing in his chest as he felt the school suddenly roar with magic. _"Why is that, Harry?"_ He felt the boy shiver at his speaking his name, and smirked to himself, though the expression was quickly quelled.

His grin falling to a small smile, Harry pulled a little closer to the man subconsciously. _"Well... I am eager to go to my new home."_

The words had an obvious effect on the man. A shiver raced down his spine, and he combed his fingers through the teen's hair, satisfaction purring in his chest. _"As am I, my little Serpent. As am I."_

**A/N: So... what does everyone think? Can anyone tell me the magic Snape speaks of? Are you satisfied that you know a little bit more about that mark? Are you as excited as Harry? Amused? Interested? Tell me, I can never get into your heads XD Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second one ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:  
DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have any problem with any of these things, are too young or too immature to read this, go away.  
That's what the back button is for. I don't need flamers, and I promise you, I'm not gonna give a rats butt if you don't like my writing or this pairing. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do in fact own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.  
So go bother JK Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it.**

**A/N: Well, there isn't much to say about this one, other then it's (quite) a bit shorter than the ones before it (: Y'all get to see Nagini, and meet another Death Eater (who we all know and love) Umm lemme know what you think, give me any ideas, suggestions, or comments and concerns (: **

**Thank you to all my reviewers, the only thing that keeps me running these days. **

The mansion that Tom brought him to was gorgeous, with beauty only paralleled by Hogwarts itself. However, it had a different sort of beauty than the castle. It was decorated lavishly but tastefully in the colors of silver and green, with serpentine themes throughout (one of Harry's favorite details). The doorknobs were all serpents' head, with glittering jewels for eyes. It especially put Harry at ease; this was a place he was not expected to be anyone but himself. Even his 'freakish' ability to talk to snakes was revered there.

Glowing with something akin to pride and contentment, Harry strolled through the house, taking it all in. Though he had been given the grand tour the night before, everywhere he looked he noticed things he had never seen before. A certain rug, an old tapestry, a cabinet of different jewels and other momentos. Tom claimed they were all from past accomplishments, and Harry was not curious enough to push too far into how on earth a pair of witch's glasses was a momento of an accomplishment.

He had yet to meet any Death Eaters; Tom had assured him that they were not going to be in the mansion for at least another day. So he had all of that time to get accustomed to the house, something he was thankful of. Though he had (somewhat officially) rennounced his position as the Light's scapegoat, he was still unsure of how to act to the people that pledged their lives to Tom. A few of them especially; Bellatrix, Snape, Malfoy.

He simply wasn't sure what to think of all of it. After all, Tom had explained to him that he was not a Death Eater, nothing like them. _You are above them..._ was the words he had used, while rubbing Harry's back the night before. Above the Death Eaters? Even the Inner Circle? _But... no one is higher than that... Except, well, Tom. _He wasn't quite sure what to think of it, of being... equal? to Tom. It seemed like a lot to live up to, like people were putting their expectations upon him again.

Something he did not want.

Tom wasn't there at the moment; claimed he had business to attend to. He had left after claiming the boy's very soul in a searing kiss, disappearing into thin air as he tended to do. Running his fingers through his hair, he glanced around the empty mansion. Though he very much so enjoyed being there, it was odd to so alone. Never had he ever been in such a large place, completely alone, with no connection to the outside world. Reaching up, he gently ran his fingers over the mark on his neck, still unsure of what it meant, but soothed by the connection it gave him to Tom.

The man had explained to him the mark-somewhat. He informed him that it enabled them to communicate mentally; while their previous connection of souls enabled them to feel each others' emotions and give them a connection when they were sleeping, this gave each direct access to the other. They could hear word for word thoughts from the other, not just vague ideas of emotions. It would not diminish over distance, either; they could communicate as easily 3 continents away as three feet away.

Harry wasn't stupid, and Tom knew that. So, Tom knew that Harry knew that he wasn't telling the complete truth. The boy knew there was more to the mark than what he was being told, but he wasn't pushing it. It would all come out in due time, and he honestly wasn't afraid of being used, abused, or killed by the Dark Lord. It wasn't that he didn't think the man would do it, it was just the fact that he no longer cared. It was as simple as that.

Rubbing his stomach gently, he made his way into the kitchens, greeting the house elves with a smile. They all greeted him with vigor, pleased by the kindness of their new master. It wasn't often that they were treated so much as fairly, much less kindly. They all very much so loved him, though they had only met him the night before. Glancing around the clean, granite countertops, he grinned sheepishly. "I'm hungry," he said, lamely, giving no offer as to what he was hungry for.

All of the house elves nodded, their ears flapping wildly while they did. One of them, the closest to the stove, said to Harry, "This is good! The Master Voldemort is always telling of how Master Harry doesn't eat!" Chuckling a little to himself, he ran his fingers through his hair, pulling up a stool to the island. Within minutes, a hot plate of food was set before him, steaming and beckoning for him to eat.

"Mmm..." He closed his eyes, leaning forward to inhale the delicious aroma. The entire kitchen fell silent as he took his first bite, waiting with bated breath for his verdict. After slowly swallowing, he opened his eyes to find the entire population of house elves peering at him, apprehensive of his decision. "Yes?"

The same house elf that had spoken before opened her mouth again, large eyes watering. "Is... is Master Harry's food good?"

Blinking a few times, he looked around at all of the upturned faces, realizing what they were waiting for. Smiling to himself, he said, "Good? This isn't good." Each face seemed to crumple, and he hurried to finish his sentence before they decided to go punish themselves. "It's delicious!"

As one, all of the house elves jumped into the air, cheering. They were estatic that he had deemed their food worthy, delicious even! Many were crying, and he rolled his eyes at the emotional disposition of the elves. Taking another bite, he looked around curiously as the entire kitchen fell into a hushed silence once more, the atmosphere a chilling fear instead of an anxious anticipation.

It took him but a second to find out what had them walking on eggshells; Nagini. The thick snake made her way over to him, snapping her lethal fangs at the house elves that stood too close to her. Whimpering, they scurried away, fearful of her deadly venom. The two favorites of Voldemort made eyes contact, and Harry could have sworn he had seen her smirking at him.

Rising, she held herself in a position similar to that of a cobra, her head elevated so she met him eye to eye. He swallowed the lump of fear in the back of his throat, meeting her gaze with his own steady orbs. They stayed still like that for a full minute, when she finally relaxed, her tongue flicking out in a pleased way. Though she had yet to say anything, he felt as though he had passed some sort of test.

_Ssso... you are the ssserpent that Massster hasss grown ssso very found of... _Shock flooded his system, unaware of how much Tom thought/spoke of him. Nagini smirked at him again, leaning forward to flick her tongue across his cheek. Surprised, he didn't pull away, looking into her eyes once more. He knew she was a deadly creature, but she seemed so... docile. At the moment, at least. He was well aware of how quickly her fangs could turn deadly.

Swallowing the last bit of moisture in his mouth, he replied, _"Well, I'm Harry, if that's what you mean. I take it the serpent I have the pleasure of speaking to at the moment is Nagini, Tom's familiar?" _The snake hissed in pleasure, obviously enjoying the flattery.

_You have a way with wordsss... Perhapsss that isss why Massster hasss taken sssuch a liking to you... _Honestly, he didn't know what to reply to that piece of information. Chuckling, he scratched behind his ear, biting his lip while trying to think of what to say. Sensing his embarrassment, the snake seemed to smirk at him. _A way with wordsss but not with conversssation... How odd... _He chuckled again at her, nervously.

_"Well... I don't really know why Tom took a, um, 'liking' to me. I really don't." _Flicking her tongue out again, she nipped his chin with her deadly fangs, leaving his heart to leap out of his chest.

_Well... if thisss sssnake wasss you... ssshe would be asssking of why... _Hesitantly, he reached out, drawn to her as he was to all snakes, and skimmed his fingers down her scales. She shimmered under his touch, her muscles rippling in what seemed to be gentle pleasure. Growing confidence, he stroked down her scales again, his touch a mite surer the second time. Hissing under her breath, she relaxed under his touch. _However... I am a very... curiousss creature..._

Chuckling again, he allowed himself to relax, her company easing his own inhibitions about the place. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all. Nagini seemed to like him; maybe the others would too. Blinking, he focused on her words when she began speaking again. _You and I... we are alike, little ssserpent. _He perked, a little curious as to why she thought such, but keeping quiet, as she wasn't finished her thought. _You and I... we are the only of our kind. We are a rare, dying breed. Massster... He has chosssen you and I. _

Eyebrows knitting, he hissed back a quick reply, "_But why? Why Nagini? I don't understand... What is so special about you and me?"_

Drawing back, Nagini dipped her head in what seemed to be a shrug. _I know not of what drivesss Massster'sss actionsss besssidesss hisss plan for world domination, and his willingnesssss to do anything for it... _Settling herself back on the floor, she began to slither away. _Asssk him yourssself, little ssserpent. He won't refussse you anything. _

Before she had completely left, he leapt to his feet, taking a few steps forward to follow her. _"Do you know where he is?" _The snake paused, looking back at him with curiosity flickering across her expression.

_You mean... you were not told?_

Heart leaping to his chest, he shook his head, taking another step forward. _"Where is he? Where did he go?" _

Still, she continued on her way out of the room, disappearing into the house he was not familiar with. _If he did not tell you, then it isss not my placcce. Asssk Massster when he getsss home. It will not be long now..._

Anger spiked into his heart, along with a bit of fear. Why had he not been told? He had simply assumed it was some stupid Death Eater business he had to attend to, something he didn't know so he wasn't told. However, if they intentionally kept him in the dark... What would be the reasoning? Something to go against him? No, that wouldn't bother him... What if the reason was that it could harm Tom?

Bile rose to the back of his throat at the idea of Tom being injured, but he quickly forced it back down, reasoning logic with himself. Tom was the most powerful wizard ever known to man; nothing could hurt him. Nothing. At all. So, he had nothing to be worried about... right?

However, if he had nothing to worry about... _Why did no one tell me?_

* * *

Pacing the mansion, Harry lost his way. He had no idea how to get back to he and Tom's chambers, and was loathe to the idea of asking for help; a true man at heart. Just when he thought he was on the right path, he would discover that he was in a different wing of the house entirely. "UGH!" he screamed out in frustration. Ever since his encounter with Nagini, his nerves had not been the same, and he had been upset in various ways.

Then, like a bucket of cold water had been splashed on him, he felt Tom's presence on the property overcome him. Spinning on his heel, he began darting down the hallways, knowing exactly what turns to take suddenly. It felt as though the man was calling for him. No, not him, but calling directly out to his soul. His soul seemed more than willing to respond. Harry felt as though, if possible, his soul would have fled his body to get to Tom faster, simply to sooner get to the man that seemed to own his soul.

He thanked God that it didn't.

Sprinting around the last corner, his body skidded to a stop when he was met with the scene before him. Tom stood before him, allowing a blonde wizard Harry recognized as Malfoy Sr. to pull his robe off, baring the semi-formal clothing he wore underneath. The men had their backs to him, Lucius unaware of his presence, Tom ignoring it, fiddling with his cufflinks and commenting on something the teen did not hear to the other wizard. Anger flared in his gut, along with joy, joy that Tom had not been hurt.

Advancing quickly, the teen grabbed the wizard by his shoulder and spun him around, the emerald and crimson eyes locking for a split second. In that split second, Lucius saw Harry a second too late, and began to lunge, shouting, "My Lord!" However, Harry would have none of that. Snagging him by the hair on the nape of his neck, he jerked the man down to his height, crashing their lips together. The blonde froze mid word, and mid step, watching the scene with wide eyes.

The Dark Lord smirked into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the teen's tiny waist, drawing him closer. Wrapping his thin arms around the strong man's neck, he scowled into the kiss, pouring his fury into the exchange, which only served to broaden the man's smirk. Swallowing the moan that built at the back of his throat, Harry squeezed him close then threw him away, glaring at him angrily while scowling. Narrowing his eyes further at the amusement on the man's face, he folded his arms in defiance.

Lucius Malfoy stood still, forcing himself not to blink in shock, as it was not Malfoylike. However, he could not deny the fact he was speechless; his Lord had just kissed-with quite a bit of passion, mind you-his all time greatest enemy, Harry Potter. Subtly, he shifted to pinch himself, simply to ensure he was alive and not dreaming. Upon finding himself fully awake he decided next to question his sanity; perhaps it was truly time to go to St. Mungo's, if only for a psycological evaluation.

He was brought from his thoughts by the boy's furious demand, "Where the bloody hell have you been, Tom?"

As he knew it was bound to, he witnessed his Lord's mood change like the flip of a switch. His playful and amused eyes turned cold and angry at the name, and Lucius thought he could see the Killing Curse on his lips. His hand shot out, wrapping around the teen's pale throat and squeezing, hissing words he did not understand. While he supposed that would have been enough to make him piss himself, all the teen did was smack his hand away, his scowl deepening.

"I'm not going to bloody call you Voldemort, Tom." If not a Malfoy, Lucius was sure his eyes would have widened. However, he was better than that. So, instead, he simply watched with an indifferent expression, his Malfoy heritage taking over. "Get used to it. I'm not going to do it, Tom, just like you aren't gonna run off and do whatever the bloody hell you were doing without bloody telling me first!" The Dark Lord quirked an eyebrow at him, folding his arms as well, but lazily, not in a furious manner.

"And why ever not?"

Scowling deeper, the boy replied, "Because I am not like them, Tom," he ignored the way the muscle in his jaw jumped at the name, "I am me, not them!" He pointed angrily at Lucius, who gathered he was speaking of the Death Eaters. "If I was traipsing around with a bloody skull on my arm, then, no, I wouldn't expect a bloody answer from you!" He was yelling now, angry at the man that had worried him so much, but unwilling to show it. "But I'm not, and I demand that you let me know where you are going!"

Voldemort was quiet a minute, assessing the situation, and Harry's reaction to his being gone. The scene seemed odd to him, how he was reacting. His eyes narrowed while he thought, then a light bulb went off. Suddenly, all anger faded from his face and he smirked. Adopting their language, he asked, _"My little Serpent... surely you weren't, dare I say it... worried about me?" _

Eyes widening, the boy's cheeks flushed and he looked away, angry at the man now for realizing what was truly bothering him. "No," he replied angrily in English, unwilling to give the man any satisfaction.

_"Come now, Harry. Don't lie to me." _ He reached out and cupped the boy's chin, tilting his head up to gaze into his serpent's emerald eyes. _"I wouldn't lie to you."_

Biting his bottom lip, he turned his face away. He was sure that the heat from his face was burning the man's hand. _"Nagini refused to tell me where you were. The way she spoke... it made it seem as though you were in danger of being injured." _Still steadily looking away from the wizard, he continued, _"I was... concerned for your wellbeing. After all, where would I be if you got killed?" _He tried to grin and give an excuse for his worry, but Voldemort knew the truth. He was worried about him simply for him, not for himself.

Smirking, the man pressed their lips together again, cupping his face as he curled the teen's toes. After only a few seconds, he pulled away, staring deep into the scowling teen's emerald eyes. _"I am fine, little serpent. There is not a forced in this world that can hurt me, let alone a few rich wizards too afraid of their lives to so much as sneeze in my presence." _Harry glared at him, his anger still unabated. It didn't matter that he was uninjured,

"The fact of the matter is you did not tell me." He scowled at him, aware that he was being immature, childish, and acting a little bit like a spoiled child. Or, worse yet, an upset spouse. Spinning on his heel, he made to storm away, but was stilled by Tom's voice,

"I am not done with you yet, little serpent. I called you here to meet Lucius; though I am sure you two have already met." Pausing, the teen looked over his shoulder, glaring at the man as his memories of the man played through his mind.

"Yes, we have." The grey eyes looked back into his emerald ones with emotions he wasn't able to read, but he was sure none of them were particularly friendly.

Sweeping into a bow, the eldest Malfoy said in his deep voice that had a tendency to make the teen want to vomit, "It is a pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Potter."

Before Harry could reply with a snide remark, the Dark Lord cut in. "Prince." Lucius looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Milord?" he questioned, asking the man to elaborate with the only words he dared use.

The crimson eyes gazed at him in a way that spoke of how highly he thought his intelligence was; not very highly at all. "Prince," he repeated himself, as he hated to do. He was not looking at the man anymore, instead gazing at the teen, as though daring him to object. "Harry is to be called Prince from now on, by any and all Death Eaters." The teen did not object, though he felt as though it was a slight wound to his ego. He felt almost as though he was being treated like a pet poodle or something to that effect; placed on a pedastal for everyone to see but no one to touch.

Clearing his throat, Lucius bowed again, closing his eyes and folding his arm over his chest. To Harry, he said, "My Prince..." At the comment, though he had previously believed he would not like the name, he flushed, very much so enjoying the title. He looked away, pressing his lips together. After a moment, Lucius rose again, his jaw set as he looked down at the small boy who, for some reason, outranked him in the Dark Lord's eyes. Still... it was not his place to go against his Dark Lord, or question his motives. He was simply a follower, one that did the Dark Lord's bidding without question.

Voldemort, pleased with the introduction, turned away from the man, his attention back on the boy, who was pleased with the attention. Cupping his chin, he smirked at how the boy's face flushed with feeling. Swallowing what moisture he held in his mouth, Harry said, "I thought you said that there would be no Death Eaters here until tomorrow." Though he knew it was only Lucius, he didn't want anyone in his house yet. Death Eater or not.

Stroking his face, the man replied, "Unfortunately, there was a change of plans. Lucius was to accompany me home, as he did, and the rest of the Death Eaters will be arriving at midnight."

Heart leaping to his throat at the thought of seeing them, his eyes widened at the enormity, _"All of them?" _He asked incredulously, unsure if he could handle all of them.

Chuckling, the wizard brought his face down so he was eye level to the teen, who was an awful bit shorter than him, peering deep into his emerald eyes, his own crimson showing nothing but eager protectiveness. "_No... Only the Inner Circle. Not everyone." _He spoke to words reassuringly, and calmed Harry's racing nerves, if only a tad. Even if it was only the Inner Circle... it was more than he had prepared himself for.

Glancing away, he asked the question that he desparately wanted to know the answer to, though he was sure he already did. _"Do I have to be there?" _

Chuckling, the man leaned down and pressed his lips to the boy's in a possessive kiss, stealing his heart away in the process. Moaning deep in his throat, the boy reached up and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Wrapping his arms around the boy, he pulled him closer, kissing him for a full minute before pulling away. Upon the kiss ending, the boy gave a little gasp for air, leaning forward and resting his head on his chest to recuperate. Running his fingers through the boy's unruly hair, he spoke in their language, _"Yes... You must. It is your debute."_

Looking down at the boy pushed to his chest, he spoke to the wizard standing a few feet away, "Go to the parlor; I'll be there in a few minutes."

Sweeping into a low bow, the wizard said dutifully, "Yes, my Lord, as you wish." He rose to his feet, turning and walking out of their line of sight.

Gazing down at Harry, Tom chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. "What?" the teen demanded, a flush raising to his cheeks while he scowled. The sight made the man's demeanor soften, at how delectable and adorable his little serpent was.

Leaning down, he gave him another kiss, but kept this one short. "Tomorrow we begin on your training; go to bed, get a good night's rest. You are in need of it." The scowl returned, deeping. "I'll wake you when it's time, and then I'll join you afterwards. But, for now, _go."_ He pressed their lips together again, then turned away, stalking off and leaving him no room to argue.

Scowling after the man, he made a face at his retreating form, then turn and began to walk up the stairs to he and Tom's personal chambers, to 'sleep'. "Sure, whatever you want, Tom..." he muttered under his breath, running his fingers through his hair. Even if he did retire to his room, he had no intention of sleeping once he got there.

"_Good night, my little Serpent."_ The words sent a shiver down his spine, and he glanced over his shoulder to meet the man's crimson eyes.

_"Good night, Tom. I suppose I'll be seeing you soon."_

_ "Yes, that you will."_

**A/N: So? What did y'all think? Tell me please! (: Oh, and I got a request for some MPREG later, and I'm still debating. It would quite a bit down the road, but can y'all tell me what y'all would think? How it should be, if it should be, all the other stuff like that (:**


	9. Chapter 9

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second one ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up: **

**DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING **  
**HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
****VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have any problem with any of these things, are too young or too immature to read this, go away.**

**That's what the back button is for. I don't need flamers, and I promise you, I'm not gonna give a rats butt if you don't like my writing or this pairing. Cuz for every one of you, there is at least four that do.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do in fact own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.**

**So go bother JK Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it. **

**A/N: Alright, this is a short chapter too (: Sorry. But you get TomxHarry action, along with the little serpent's introduction to his new life (: As always, thank you for my reviewers, who replied so quickly to my last chapter (: Y'all rock my world.**

**I have yet to decide what I'm going to do about the MPREG. Personally, I'm a fan of it, but I've never written it. And while I have gotten many reviews telling me to do it, I've also received reviews that if I put MPREG in my story, some of my readers will no longer read. Still, while I would hate for that to happen, I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I would love some more reviews, telling me in further detail what y'all think about it. **

**Then again, I would like reviews about anything (: Y'all have become my favorite form of cocaine (: So, please review, and keep me from going insane? (:**

Though the house was silent, there was something palpable in the air, Harry noticed. He was unable to sleep, though Tom had asked him to, even demanded it, repeatedly, but it simply would not come to him. Then, he felt the house silently filling. He did not know _how_ he knew, simply that he knew. Restlessness grew in him, as he felt an internal clock counting down the minutes until Tom would come to fetch him. He reached up and cupped the mark on his neck, closing his eyes again in the hopes of calming himself. Unsuccessfully.

Sitting up, he threw the covers off of himself, feeling magic teeming in the air. It was expected he supposed. After all, only the Inner Circle were going to be there, and Harry could only suppose that to be in the Inner Circle, one had to be extremely powerful, and very much so demented. It was only to be expected that their magic would become elevated, and therefore so tangible on the air it refused to allow Harry to sleep. Slipping on the slippers he had waiting for him beside the bed, he wrapped Tom's robe around himself and made his way over to the door.

Harry pressed his ear to the door, holding his breath to see if he could hear anything beyond the door. Nothing. He twisted the door handle, just to see if it would come free. It would; Tom had left it unlocked, surprisingly. Releasing the door knob, he closed his eyes again, craning to hear _something_, anything! Still, he was met with silence only disturbed by the gentle ticking of the clock. "Ugh... bugger," he muttered under his breath. He wanted to know what was going on, what was happening! There didn't seem to be a living creature in the house besides himself. If he hadn't known otherwise, he almost could have believed it.

Biting his lip, he recalled Tom's words to remain in the room until he came to retrieve him. Honestly, how much trouble could he be in if he disobeyed? Grinning impishly to himself, he crept away from the door after making sure that it was closed, over to the set of chester drawers Tom had set aside for him. While he did not have a fully stocked wardrobe at the moment, he had enough clothes to get by. _Tom said that he'll take me out later to get clothes..._ Of course, it was said with a glint to his eye that worried Harry, but he had dismissed it.

Dropping his robe to the floor (he was sure that would irritate Tom, who loved to have his entire life in order), he pulled a shirt and a pair of jeans from the drawers. Combing his fingers through his hair, he dressed quickly, the magic on the air awakening his own. Though he was still hesitant to meet the Death Eaters, he was now eager to do so, if that made any sort of sense. He simply wanted to get it over with, and besides, who gave a shit what they thought? Tom was the only one that mattered, they were nothing more than followers.

Glancing over at the clock, he found the it was exactly midnight. He then decided he wasn't going to wait for Tom to fetch him, that he would go down himself. After all, he knew where they were congegating. So why not go down and surprise them? He balanced on one foot as he pulled on a pair of socks, snapping the no-shows over his heels. Wiggling his toes, he stood up straighter, snatching his wand from the bedside table. He wrapped his hand tight around it, making his way across the room to the door.

Casting one more look around the room, he closed his eyes to bask in the comfort it gave to him. Taking a deep breath, he allowed the security he felt in that mansion wash over him. It was ironic; the safest he had felt in as long as he could remember was in the house of the most fearsome Dark Lord to ever walk the Earth. He shook his head in disbelief, chuckling under his breath. It figured; that was simply how his luck always seemed to play out.

Harry turned and strode out of the room, looking up and down the hallway. Still, the house was silent, though he could feel it teeming with more life than he had ever felt in it. Combing his fingers through his hair again, he crept his way through the house to the hall that he knew the meeting was being held in. _Tom? _he called out mentally, venturing into the man's mind via their mind connection that was established from the mark on his neck.

_Yes, my little Serpent?_ came the man's almost instant reply, sending a shiver down the teen's spine. Licking his lips, he made sure to be quiet as he walked.

_I'm on my way. I couldn't wait any longer._

He heard the man's chuckle. _Too excited? _He didn't reply. _I was coming to fetch you anyways; this simply saves me a trip. Be quiet about it, though, little one. Let's catch them by surprise. _

Turning a corner, the teen snorted under his breath. _I'm sure it will be a surprise, whether I'm quiet or not; they probably think that they were summoned here to go over a new plan on how to kill me, not to introduce me as... well, whatever I am to you. _He still wasn't sure what he was to the man.

Tom didn't offer an answer to his unasked question, either.

* * *

The Death Eaters teemed silently in the meeting hall in the Dark Lord's mansion. Their Lord was sitting in a throne at the head of the room, stroking his long pale fingers down the scales of his dark snake, the look on his face so pleasant that they wondered nervously which of them was going to die. Lucius and Severus seemed to be the only only that were at ease; after all, they both knew what was going to happen, why they had been called to such an unexpected meeting.

The rest of the Death Eaters, however, were unaware.

Bella was crooning to her Master quietly, speaking of how she had so missed him in the time the had been apart. Raising his hand, he silenced her without looking at her. Closing her lips, she seemed to be slightly put down, but he turned his crimson gaze on her, giving her a small smirk. She looked up at him, pleased that he was giving her affection. He pressed a single finger to his lips, murmuring, "I would detest for you to miss the surprise."

The Death Eaters turned their gazes upon him, looking eagerly yet fearfully up at him. His hand fell to continue lazily stroking Nagini, and he began to talk in his low, lazy drawl, "My dearest Death Eaters... I have gathered you here today because you are my closest, dearest, and most loyal followers. Because of your station as members of my Inner Circle, I shall bestow upon you information that is not to leave this room."

The Death Eaters dared glance at one another before returning their gazes upon their Lord, their ears eager for more information. "Today marks a new era in Wizarding history. As of now, there is no longer anything that stands in our way. The entire world will fall to our feet, with little to no resistance." He could see the looks of disbelief his followers were giving each other, though they each dutifully held their tongue. Smirking, he continued, "Why, you may ask. Well, I will tell you why." He turned his gaze upon Lucius, who lowered his gaze respectfully. "Ask me why, Lucius."

The blonde, though he knew there was no danger in asking the question, still felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Why, my Lord?"

The smirk on the man's face spread, and he said in a clear voice, "Why on earth would the world fight against us when even their little Chosen One sees the right in what we are doing?" At those words, he raised his hand, bringing their attention to the door from which they entered, and the teenager who now stood in it.

Panic and confusion filled the room, with the Death eaters breaking out into whispers or outright screams, some pointing accusingly at the teen, others turning to each other and asking for verification. Tom, who never tolerated any level of chaos, opened his mouth to scream at his subordinates, but found with surpise that his Serpent had beat him to it. "SHUT UP!" The hall froze, each of the Death Eaters turning their gazes upon him. Growling, he stormed into the room, his shoulders back, scowling at the wizards who were glaring at him.

"Bloody lord, that was enough to give anyone a bloody headache." He turned his gaze upon the Dark Lord, who met his emerald eyes with glinting crimson orbs. The man raised a hand and curled one finger, beckoning to him. The teen quirked an eyebrow, but smirked, making his way up the few stairs to the man's throne. Upon reaching the highest stair, Tom stood, taking one step forward to take the teen's hand. In front of the crowd, he drew the appendage to his face, pressing his cool lips to the back of his hand, then turning it over and pressing his lips to his wrist.

The hall fell to a hushed silence at the act, each Death Eater (Lucius and Severus included) shocked at the intimate action. Ignoring it, Tom drew the teen closer and pressed his lips to his cheek, murmuring, "_My Serpent..."_ Harry's cheeks flushed, but he didn't draw away. Standing up straighter, the wizard turned to address his followers once more. "The Chosen One has chosen his own path now, and will walk together with us into world domination, as the key to our success."

Flicking his wand, he Summounded another throne, similar to his but smaller. It was old fashioned and lavishly carved, the arm rests ending in serpentine heads with emeralds for eyes, while Voldemort's had rubies instead. Each of the clawed feet were the same, but while the arm rests were open mouthed, showing their fangs, the feet had balls in each mouth, to provide a stabler chair. Each throne had a cushioned seat and back, Harry's green velvet while Voldemort's was red.

It fell to the right hand side of his own throne, and he guided the teen to stand in front of it. Sweeping his crimson gaze out onto his followers, he said in a clear voice that gave away his enthusiasm, "Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the Golden Boy, is no more. In his stead rises a new wizard," he smirk broadened, and he gestured to the teen beside him, "Your Prince."

A hush fell in the hall, and Tom sat down, taking Harry's hand possessively and pulling him down to do the same. When no one moved, Voldemort beckoned them forward, "Come, my most loyal Death Eaters... Come greet your Prince."

The hesitation was palpable in the room, but Lucius wasted no time. He moved immediately, walking up the stairs and keeping his head bowed, left arm folded over his chest. Kneeling, he used his right hand and took the teen's right hand, drawing it to his lips and gently brushing them over the back of his hand. "My Prince..." he murmured, head bowed, eyes closed. He knelt there for a full second, then rose, walking back down the stairs to his allotted place in the room.

Bellatrix and Snape were close seconds, though neither really wanted to kiss the boy's hand, both were eager to show loyalty. After those three, the rest of the Death eaters followed, their words low and rushed. Harry did not recognise many of them, as their hoods were drawn, of which he was thankful for. His heart was thudding in his chest, the acceptance he received from each of the wizards making his blood pound in his ears. While he knew it was only from fear of the Dark Lord, but the fact of the matter was that they had accepted him.

That in itself meant more than anything else.

Once each Death Eater was back in its rightful place, Voldemort began speaking again. "This, my friends, is the beginning. Soon, the world will be at our feet. Starting with," he paused to grin wickedly, stirring excitement in his followers' guts, "Our dear old Hogwarts."

* * *

The Death Eaters, one by one, Apparated from the room, leaving their Lord and Prince alone, their fingers still entwined. At the same time, the males turned to look at the other, each with the same hungry look in their eyes. Tom raised their held hands to his lips and wrapped his lips, slowly, sensually, around each of his fingertips. The teen did not know how on earth such a simple, small gesture could send such wonderous shots of pleasure up and down his spine. How Tom could effect him in such a way was beyond him.

Nagini slid off of the man's shoulder, sliding out of the room to give them privacy. Beside, she had better things to do than to sit there and watch two men make out. _Like terrorizing the little kitchen elves..._ she thought to herself with a smirk, disappearing around the corner.

Hunger growling in his chest, Harry pushed himself off of the throne on which he sat, moving to straddle Tom in his throne. He heard the man's groan of appreciation, and smirked. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to his lips, moaning in his throat when Tom returned the kiss with a vengence. The man gripped his hips, his fingers digging in so tightly the teen could already tell he was going to bruise. Somehow, the thought only served to further arouse him. He wrapped his arms around the other's neck, pulling him close as they kissed.

Moaning in the back of his throat, Tom dug his fingers into the teen's hips, bothered by the texture of the jeans under his nails. Reaching around in front of the teen, he made to undo the button, but was sidetracked by the boy's reaction to his fingers dancing across his erection. The teen had pulled away, panting as he rested he forehead against the man's shoulder, his skin already flushed and hot to the touch. He brushed his fingers over the erection again and found himself trobbing in need at the whine his serpent let out.

Shifting his hand, he rubbed his palm against his serpent's cock, his crimson orbs trained on his face while he watched pleasure flash across it. After a few seconds of rubbing, the man realized that he was not wearing anything underneath the jeans. A cruel, teasing smile flickered across his face, and he knew just how to tease his serpent. It felt delectable, to have one's cock rub against leans, but only for a bit. After a while, it tended to grow a little too tender for such.

Well, his serpent was a bit of a masochist.

Smirking broader, he leaned down and sank his teeth into the crook of his neck, hard enough to leave angry marks and draw blood. The teen cried out, bucking forward out of reaction, then melting at the delightful friction the movement gave him. "Ohhh..." the teen moaned in his ear, gripping his shoulders and pulling him closer. His teeth retracted, his tongue replacing it soothingly. The boy relaxed, his grip relaxing. He moved his hands from gripping his shoulders to be frimly wrapped around the man's shoulder blades. Running his tongue up Harry's neck, he relished in the shudder that wracked his body.

Kissing his way back down his neck, he waited until he was sure the boy was completely relaxed, in tune with the tongue on his neck more than anything else in the world. Then, he sank his teeth into the skin beside the mark on his neck. The teen cried out, emerald orbs flying wide as his hips shot forward, his erection straining against his pants, nearly to the point of coming. Panting, Harry clutched at Tom's shoulders, his body trembling slightly from the pleasure that had wracked his body. After a second, the teen rolled his head back in front of him, glaring at the man whose lap he sat in.

"_Bloody git," _he hissed at him, his scowl deepening into his face at the grin the man gave him. _"Git!" _he hissed again, to make a point. He knew it was impossible, trying to get a point across to the Dark Lord. He figured that he had accomplished enough impossible things that pertained to the man, might as well try another. This time, he was unsuccessful. he knew it, too, because all the man did was grin, and stroke his fingers over his clothed erection again. Pleasure coursed his system and he moaned again, pushing his own body closer to Tom.

Watching his serpent, the man teased him, waiting eagerly for the pain to begin setting in. He licked his neck, soothing him just long enough to get him to relax then would bite his neck again, so very close to that sensitive mark that it almost had the boy seeing white. He reached up and twisted the boy's nipples painfully while he did so, loving how his emerald eyes rolled back in his head, the most delightful moans erupting from his chest. Then, as he twisted the nipple further, the teen would begin to mewl and grip so adorably at his chest, driving the man to insanity.

The pain coursing Harry's body only served to further the pleasure he felt. Never had he thought he could find enjoyment in pain, as he had been beat most of his life and had never enjoyed it, but he supposed that he would enjoy just about anything from Tom. After all, Tom was unlike any other man on the earth. How could he not enjoy anything from his other half? Then he felt a chafing in his pants from his involuntary bucking and hissed, pain lacing up his spine at the same time that the man sank his teeth in his neck again.

White flashed before his eyes, and his body froze from the pleasurable pain coursing his body as he shot his load in his pants.

Turning boneless, the teen rested his head against the man's chest, panting heavily as he tried to regain his breath. Tom smirked to himself, ignoring his raging erection. His hands turned soft, rubbing circles in his serpent's back while he recuperated. Slipping his hands under his shirt, he pulled it over the head of unruly hair, letting it fall to the floor beside them, and made a mental note to pick it up when they were done. Running his hands up the teen's chest, he smirked when an image came to his mind.

_"You're getting nipple piercings." _He sent the teen a image of himself with the piercings, making sure that his muddled mind comprehended it. From the flush that rose to his cheeks, he assumed he understood.

"Um..." the teen panted, trying to regain his breath and his ability to make coherent sentences. "No." Tom chuckled at him, leaving light bites across his collarbones, watching over the teen's shoulder as his toes curled. He knew just how to please his serpent.

Deciding not to push the subject, he bit the teen's earlobe, making him cry out in plasureable pain. Licking the shell of his ear, he hissed, "_Unzip your pants for me, my little serpent." _He felt the shudder that ran down the teen's spine, and smirked to himself. Then, he watched as the teen obeyed him, his newfound erection springing forth, he come from his previous ejaculation sliding down the shaft.

Now that the jeans were loosened, the man slipped his hand down the back of his pants, teasing the boy's entrance while watching his face. Surprise initially flickered across it, then fell to give way to bliss. His green eyes closed, his head tilting forward to fall on Tom's shoulder, his lips parting as he began to pant, giving little mewls inbetween pants. Every few seconds a shudder would race down his spine, and then he would give a light gasp, digging his nails into the man's shoulders. The two sat like that for a number of minutes, the man moving to slowly pump one finger into his asshole. He was careful, because he hadn't lubed his finger, and didn't want to injure the boy.

However, he knew the teen enjoyed pain, so it wasn't as though it would go unwanted. Still, he knew which pain his serpent wanted, and he wasn't quite ready for _that_ kind of pain yet. In time, though, he would prepare and take the teen without lubrication. The man wasn't planning on doing that for a while, though. However, if his teen kept acting in such a delectable manner, he might not have a choice in the matter. After all, he didn't not have the self-control to refrain from such for long.

Harry began to rock back on the finger that was being pump in him, eager for more of that glorious feel of being filled. Never had he experienced such pleasure in life than when Tom was buried balls deep into him, never had he felt so empty as when the man pulled out. Leaning forward, he began to nip and bite at the man's neck, wishing that he had a mark as well, so Tom could feel what he felt when the man teased it. _Oh... if only. _Then he could truly get revenge for what the wizard did to him on a daily basis.

Quickly, the man stripped him of his clothing, peppering kisses and bites to each new inch of skin revealed. His tan fingers traced over the teen's thighs, sending shivers of pleasure up his spine. Crimson orbs stayed trained on the boy's face, drinking in every expression of pleasure that fleeted across it, no matter how brief. Once the teen was bare, he rested back against the throne he sat in, looking his serpent up and down, licking his lips when he saw how proudly his erection stood, bare and begging for attention in the chilled mansion air.

Licking his lips, Tom leaned forward and bit his neck, directly beside the boy's mark. Closing his eyes, he allowed the moan of pleasure uttered by the boy fill his head, and allowed himself to be overcome with pride at the thought of the fact that he was the one that was doing this to his serpent. No one had ever done anything close to this to the boy, and no one ever would. Hence why he is so virgin, he though to himself with a smirk. He positively loved the fact. Opening his eyes, he peered down at the boy's throbbing erection , feeling his own give a throb in return. Biting back a moan, he reached down and dipped his fingers into the cum, unable to help himself any longer.

Whining, Harry bit the man's earlobe when he felt thin fingers dip into his cum, scooping an amount up then returning to his asshole, pushing two fingers in instead of one. Crying out, the teen clenched, sucking the man's fingers in, wishing it was something else, something that filled him to the point of breaking. It drove him near insane, knowing that Tom was so near and not in him.

Tom was the only form of sanity he had in his life, his constant. Tom made sure he knew which way was up, didn't let him go spiraling into oblivion. He didn't know what he would do without the man, what he had done before him, either. _Even before this summer, Tom was the thing my life revolved around. _Always the man had been there for him, always kept his promises. Moaning, he tilted his head up to pant in the man's ear, "_Damn it, Tom... fuck me already." _He was ready to be filled, his nerves needed something to calm them.

Tom was more than happy to oblige.

**A/N: So? Did y'all get y'all fix? Or do you still need more? (: Please tell me what y'all think, about everything, more opinions on what y'all think should happen. If y'all have any ideas, go ahead and message me, if y'all feel it was a lil too in depth to be in a review (: My brain can only do so much (: **

**Thanks!**

**OH! I almost forgot! (: How do y'all feel about Severus/Lucius? Or maybe a bit of redheaded Twincest? Hm? (:**


	10. Chapter 10

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:**

**DARK?HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
****VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have any problems with any of these, are too young or immature to read this, then go away.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do, in fact, own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them. **

**So go bother JK Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it.**

**A/N: Alrighty, my most beloved readers (: Oh, how I love you. The sun would not shine on my life if not for you reading this, right now. So, after two awful short chapters, I decided to give you one of decent length. I very much so like this chapter, so tell me what y'all think! (:**

**Thank you to all of my reviewers, who respond to my questions ever so quickly (: Give me your insight, please, because no matter how much I beg and plead, Severus refuses to teach me Legilimency . And Tom's a lil too preoccupied with Harry at the moment to even glance at me XD**

Harry rolled over in his oversized bed, pulling the thick sheets up to his chin. He sighed in deep contentment, his body more rested than ever remembered feeling it. Though he knew that there was nothing he did not wish for waiting him when he opened his eyes, he was still loathe to do it. He knew that the colors that awaited him when he finally decided to were not gaudy scarlet and gold, but the sleek and sophisticated green and silver. The very thought made him giddy; he wasn't in Hogwarts, instead in Tom's mansion. _Ah, it's like a dream come true..._

He had slept in, as he had no Aunt Petunia screaming in his bloody ear to wake up and start making breakfast, or Ron grumbling loudly about how he could not stand the morning. He didn't have to worry about classes, or Dumbledore twinkling at him with those all-knowing eyes, or Professor Snape breathing down his neck, or Ron and Hermione giving him a migraine the likes of which never before been survived on the earth.

Grinning, he allowed himself a bit of cockiness in thinking, _Yes, but I have a talent for surviving things never before lived on this Earth, don't I? _

He knew that while he had slept in, he wouldn't be allowed to stay in bed much longer. He could already feel Tom's restlessness, stirring about the mansion like a zephyr. Even if the man did not come to get him himself, the teen knew he could not remain laying there much longer. The Dark Lord's restlessness was catching, and he felt it growing in his limbs every passing second. Clenching his eyes further, he balled his hands into fists and stretched, rolling onto his back. He arched his neck and back, relishing in each popped joint.

Panic flooded his system temporarily when he felt lips on his neck, before his mind comprehended that it was Tom. Relaxing, he wrapped his arms around the man that held himself above him. Inhaling deeply, his body tingled at the musky, masculine scent of Tom. The entire mansion smelt vaguely of him, soothing Harry's nerves with no effort. He had a sharp, dangerous scent to him; the electricity on the air before a storm. Yet, even as dangerous as it was, it was calming to Harry, and familiar to him; he had known that scent for as long as he could remember.

The lips on his neck turned to teeth, and Tom nipped his way up his serpent's neck, biting his earlobe gently. "Mmm..." a shudder raced down his spine at the sounds that the teen made. He traced his nails up the teen's bare sides, reveling in how his muscles trembled when touched. Emerald and crimson eyes met, and electricity sparked in the room. Gaze softening, Tom gave a rare, gentle smile.

"_Well, good morning, my dearest serpent._" Butterflies rolled about in the teen's stomach at the words, and he playfully smiled at him, wrapping his arms around his neck to pull him closer.

"_Dearest? Why that's new..._" The man quirked an eyebrow at him, oblivious to what he was pointing out. Rolling his emerald eyes, his smile spreading wider. "_You've always called me your 'little' serpent, never your dearest._" Watching Tom's eyes wide in shock made the teen want to crow, but he sufficed with grinning. _"I must say,_" he said in a flirtatious tone, playing with the hair on the back of the man's neck, "_I think I like dearest more than I like little._"

Tom averted his eyes, clearing his throat. Harry was pleased to have caught him in something he could not deny, and grinned victoriously. Sitting up off of him, the man ran his fingers through his hair. "I assure you it was nothing more than the slip of the tongue." He waved a hand dismissively, standing up off of the bed and leaving no room to argue about the subject.

Somewhat stung by the words, the teen looked away from him. Flipping the covers back, he began to climb out of the bed, mildly (maybe a bit more than a little) stung by the man's complete and utter dismissal. He knew it was to be expected, but still... Walking across the room to his dresser for clothes, he was startled when arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind.

Recovering from his start, he glared over his shoulder at the man, pulling away. The man's eyes were reproachful if not playful, and he was pulled back. _"At least, don't tell Nagini she is no longer my favorite." _Harry gave a sigh, scowling over at him but resting back against the hard chest that had become his favorite pillow.

"_I suppose that's all I'm going to get out of you, isn't it?_" He didn't give Tom a chance to reply, pulling away and crossing the rest of the distance to his wardrobe. The teen knew it was wrong of him to get upset over such a thing, but on one hand, he felt as though he had the right. A right as Tom's... what was he to Tom again? The thought bothered him more than he previously had believed it would, but he wasn't willing to push the subject yet.

_"Listen..." _He jumped at the words that were whispered into his ear, his heart leaping to his throat. He spun around and made to smack Tom's chest, opening his mouth to reprimand him for startling him. Tom caught his hand, his crimson eyes stealing Harry's breath away at the intensity of them. "_That in itself should show you just how much I care, understand?_"

The teen's heart leapt to his throat for a different reason entirely, his pulse suddenly thundering in his ears. He wanted to reach out and clutch at the man, shake him and demand he repeat himself, but he couldn't seem to find it in himself to move. Then lips pressed to his, gently, and his mind stopped working. Reaching up, he wrapped his arms around the man's neck, drawing him closer in the kiss, moaning in the back of the throat.

While Harry might have called it moaning, it sounded more of a whine to Tom. The man rested his hands in a gentle grip on his hips, but the posture he held, the things he was doing, were more possessive than the teen believed he had ever felt from the man. He melted in the man's hold, his scowl turning up into a smile as they kissed. He felt Tom smirking, and drew away to quirk an eyebrow at him. He opened his mouth to begin teasing him, when the man suddenly cut him off,

"You have slept in far later than I had expected. You still must eat breakfast, than your lessons will commence." He gave his serpent a tighter squeeze, then withdrew from him, looking down on him with crimson eyes that burned trials of fire into his bare body. The teen had too look away to keep from getting 'excited' at the look in the man's eyes.

Clearing his throat, Harry turned his back on the man, walking the few remaining feet to his dresser. "So, what will you be teaching me?" A pair of jeans and a wifebeater were grabbed, red boxers as well. "Well?" He looked over his shoulder at the man to find him openly gawking, head cocked to the side, at his ass. Cheeks inflaming, he scowled, slipping on his boxers hurriedly. "Don't look at me like that!" he demanded, his scowl deepening. "Tom!"

The man's head snapped up, his eyebrows raised in silent question. Upon seeing his little serpent scowling at him, he quirked an eyebrow, "Yes?"

Scowl etching deeper into his face, his emerald eyes sparkling in something akin to embarrassment and anger, he hissed, "I said: Don't look at me like that!" The man quirked an eyebrow higher, a playful smirk spreading across his face. He slowly folded his arms, resting back on his left foot.

"Like what, exactly?" the words were a slow drawl, as if he knew the answer already and was drawing out the discussion simply to further embarrass his serpent. Which was exactly what he was doing. He enjoyed watching the teen's blush spread to his collarbones.

Eyes narrowing in fury, the teen threw the wifebeater at the man, hitting him across his chest. _"Like I'm some kind of piece of meat!_"

At his words, the man's smirk spread across his entire face, his eyes sparking in amusement, and the teen knew the words on his tongue before they left his lips. _"But, my little serpent..." _he drew forward, resting his hands on the teen's hips, "_You are."_

Scowl deepening, he shoved away from him, only to have his lips caught in a soul stealing, earth shattering kiss. Biting back the moan that threatened to erupt from his throat, he kissed back, but pulled away, unwilling to allow the man to leave him a panting mess. Turning away from him, he began to get dressed again, the process heeded by the man unloading affection upon the teen's pale neck. "Mmm..." he moaned, emerald eyes sliding closed with pleasure clouding their depths.

Vaguely he wondered, _Does Tom know just how much of my soul he holds?_

He heard the responding voice in the back of his head, _No, my little serpent, I believe it's the other way around. _The man nuzzled his neck, pressing a light kiss to the mark on his neck. Pleasure wracked the teen's body and he moaned, tilting his head back to rest on the man's chest. Arms wrapped around his waist, the lips retreating, and his mind slowly began to work again.

Chuckling weakly, Harry said, _"You know... If I didn't know any better, I would think you only wanted me for my body." _He titled his head up and to the side to look at the man, curious as to what he would say. Would he deny it?

Chuckling as well, though his was immeasurably deeper than his serpent's, he replied, "_Well, it's a good thing you know better, isn't it?_"

"Mhm," the teen said curtly, lips pressed together. He pulled away, slipping his wifebeater on and walking away from him to the bathroom. Over his shoulder the teen called out, "You never did answer my question, you know."

He heard the man's uncaring chuckle, and glared over at him. "Well, what was your question?" Tom walked into the bathroom to find his serpent bent over the sink, eyes closed while he brushed his teeth. "What was your question?" he repeated himself, despite the fact he hated to. It was for his serpent, so he supposed he could tolerate it, if only once.

Opening his emerald orbs, he turned them on the man, still hunched over the sink. "Whaa wii yoo beh tea-chin meh?" Blinking a few times, it took the man a second to comprehend what he said. Upon understanding, he chuckled, running his fingers down the teen's back.

"Why, I won't be teaching you." The teen stopped in his tracks, turning to look at him with knitted eyebrows.

"Whaa-" he stopped himself, turning to spit out his mouthful of suds in the sink. Turning on the faucet, he swished a mouthful of it back and forth, then spat it out. He did this twice more before turning on the man with slightly narrowed eyes. "What do you mean? I thought you were gonna be teaching me."

The man shook his head, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm no good at teaching. Besides, there are things that others are more versed in than I. You will have the best teachers, Harry, as I previously promised." Mouth agape, the dark haired boy stood stock still for a full minute, trying to find the words to say what he wanted.

"No! I-I-I don't know those people! I want you to teach me!" He opened his mouth to protest further, but Tom held up a hand, silencing him. He closed his jaw with an angry 'snap!' and narrowed his exasperated eyes at the man.

"How are you going to grow to know these people if you do not give them a chance?" Harry had no reply, so the man continued, "_Serpent, this isn't just about you getting used to them. They must grow used to you as well._" Emerald eyes widened at his words when he realized who his teachers were going to be.

"_Death Eaters? Are you out of your bloody mind?_" He looked at the man incredulously, wondering just how sane he himself was to go with this man that was so obviously insane.

Rolling his eyes, Tom approached, placing his hands on the boy's upper arms. _"Listen to me, serpent._" Dutifully, the boy looked up at him, though with a look of disbelief. "_This is not going to be an easy transition for them, the Death Eaters that have been trained from the start to hate your guts._" He opened his mouth to tell the man that that was _exactly_ why it wouldn't work, but he continued talking, not leaving the boy a second to talk.

"_You must work with me here, my Serpent. These are the best teachers in this world, and if they aren't I will bring those to you as well._" Harry pressed his lips together, unwilling to allow his safety to be placed in the hands of the most demented wizards he had ever come across in his life. "_I'll not let them hurt you, my little serpent, of that I swear._"

"Tom, I'm not comfortable with that. I want you to teach me."

Smirking, the man cupped his cheek and said, "If I was going to teach you anything, it would be bedroom antics."

Emerald eyes widened, and his cheeks inflamed, the teen looking away. Smirking, the man wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his neck teasingly. "_You are so virgin at times, my little serpent._" The teen scowled at him, his cheeks darkening. From around the wifebeater, the man could see his collarbones were darkening as well. The sight made him smirk.

"Am not," he said childishly, pulling away.

Being just as childish, the man replied, "Are too."

"Am not."

"You are."

The two locked eye contact, the teen scowling while the man smirked. They stood silent, neither emerald nor crimson willing to give way. After standing there for a full 5 minutes staring at each other, Harry looked away, clenching his eyes and rubbing them. _"Git..." _he hissed at him, but the man ran a hand down his back, tracing gently soothing patterns on his spine. Looking over at him, he was surprised at how gentle he gaze seemed to be.

Leaning down, the man seemed to be about to lay a sweet kiss on his lips, but instead he pressed his lips to his ear and whispered, "You are so virgin at times."

Leaping away, the teen scowled at him, embarrassed at getting his hopes up for a kiss and for being called a virgin when he had already had sex. More than once, mind you. Glaring at the man, he opened his mouth to argue, but the man turned on his heel. "_Come with me, my little serpent. It's time your training begins._"

Harry made a face at the man's back, but relented, following. The truth of the matter is that the teen was eager for training, and to learn new things. He wasn't afraid of the Death eaters hurting him; he knew Tom would never allow such. What had him ancy was the thought of the Death Eaters rejecting him. While he knew it shouldn't matter, he couldn't stop what bothered him.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when something grabbed his hand. Looking down, he found that the Dark Lord had entwined their fingers and was walking beside him. His heart had suddenly jumped to his throat, his pulse thundering in his ears like a pounding drum of war. Swallowing the last bit of moisture in his mouth, he looked up at the man, who had not looked down at him since he had done it. Moving his gaze back in frnot of him, he tried to calm his heartbeat.

Tom pulled him close, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "_Do not fret your tender little head, my little serpent. They will love you._"

The soft voice in his ear calmed his heart slightly, and he replied, "How do you know, Tom?" He turned his head to gaze up at him, his emerald eyes wide with uncertainty.

Brushing the back of his hand over his serpent's cheek, the man said, "_I simply know, Harry. Just take my word. Believe me in what I say, you have a talent for making those around you fall for you._"

His eyes widened at the man's words, but he said no more on the subject, standing up straighter and walking again. Harry followed in somewhat of a daze, not really paying attention, because

_Did the Dark Lord Voldemort just say he loved me?_

* * *

Tom led Harry into the library after a very filling breakfast of eggs, hashbrowns, and toast(though Harry didn't eat nearly as much as the man would have liked). The library seemed to be the same size as the library in Hogwarts. The teen looked up in unbridled surprise, drinking in every inch of the library. He had never been in it before; the man had told him about it, but had not taken him to see it. "Bloody hell..." he murmured under his breath, and the man allowed the teen's hand to slip from his own as he ventured forth into the library. Watching after him, the man allowed the boy to wander.

Harry never considered himself a nerd; not like Hermione. He would much rather be outside playing Quiddtich than inside reading, but there was something about a rainy day that simply demanded a blanket, a handfull of Chocolate Frogs, and his favorite book. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the scent of the private library. It held a completely different scent than that of a public library, or even Hogwarts' library. It was made of the musky scent of recently burnt firewood, old, thick tomes that teemed with knowledge, and a vague hint of Tom's own.

He had ventured three rows away from the man, running the pads of his fingers over the spines of the books, pausing every few seconds to note a title that caught his attention. Just as he was reaching out to grab a book titled 'Infinity' he heard Tom's calming, powerful, seductive voice call out, "_Serpent? Return to me; you can explore the library at a later date. At the moment, you must meet your new teachers._"

Licking his lips and attempting to swallow the lump that suddenly rose to his throat, he made his way slowly back to the man, peering around the last row at him. The man raised a hand, holding it out to beckon to him. "_Now, now, my little serpent, don't suddenly grow shy. There is nothing that will bring any harm upon you in this manner._" His tone was gentle, but teasing, and the teen found himself scowling at the words. "_You need not be afraid._"

Scoffing, the teen made his way down the last row to the man, scowling at him. "_I'm not afraid, not of anything! And, even if I was, it is perfectly plausible to be afraid of Death Eaters!"_ he hissed the last words through clenched teeth at him, his eyes narrowed into a glare. Laughing lightly, the man put a hand to the small of his back, leading him further into the library.

"Of course, of course, whatever you say." His voice was loud enough to carry through the library, and the teen felt as though whoever was waiting on them had heard it. He also felt that Tom was ending the discussion, or at least trying to. Pressing his lips together, he quieted himself; he had a feeling that any response he was going to get out of Tom would be in English. That wasn't the language he wanted, so he decided to wait until a later date to continue the argument.

Coming into a enclave in the library, Harry first noticed the fireplace, which sat directly across from him. There were two leathers cushioned arm chairs on his left, a matching small sofa opposite to them (the kind that Aunt Pentunia always called a loveseat) and in between them stood an antique looking dark wood coffee table, which the same serpent head legs that the thrones had in the meeting room. A low fire cackled in the fireplace, which the teen was grateful of; it always seemed to be freezing in the manner, no matter how much Tom commanded the house elves make it warmer for him.

Then, after he took note of everything in the little enclove, he finally took note of every_one_ in the enclave. Beside each other in the two arm chairs sat his least favorite Potion's master and his second least favorite Malfoy. Across from them, lounging on the loveseat sat his least favorite female in the entire world, and that was factoring in Hermione and Aunt Petunia. His scowl returned, etching deep into his face. Turning on Tom, he hissed loudly, "_These__ are supposed to be my teachers?_" He looked sceptically up at the man, quirking an eyebrow incredulously.

Blinking innocently (a little too innocently for Harry's taste), the man said, "Yes. Is there a problem with such?"

Shaking his head and glaring, the teen spun around to storm off, infuriated. He had a feeling that the man was going to do something like that, but to think he would choose _her_ of all people? Unbelieveable! A hand grabbed his upper arm and spun him back around, the man glared down at him, their gazes matching in intensity. "_Listen, Harry Potter, you need to get used to trusting these people just as much as they need to get used to trusting you._"

His look turned exasperated, "_No, you listen to me, Tom Riddle: I will never trust these people! One has treated me like shit since I was 11, another tried to kill me, and the other bloody killed one of the only people on this bloody earth that I ever loved!_" His eyes were narrowed, fury pouring off of him in waves as the image of Sirius falling backwards through the veil flashed before his eyes. He looked away, blinking back tears.

Tom's anger suddenly faded at seeing his serpent on the verge of tears. Reaching forward, he cupped the boy's chin, each of the Death Eaters wisely looking away, "_Harry, you need to be able to trust these people, as they need to be able to trust you. Everything that has so far happened was in the past, when you were still puppet of the Light. Now you are ours to protect. Allow these to redeem themselves, and give them a chance._" The teen looked over at the three, lips pressed together in a tight line. "_I assure you that, given the chance, you will find they are quite enjoyable, in small doses._"

Tom wasn't for any sort of extended contact with any person, besides Nagini and Harry, his serpents. They didn't count, anyways.

"_I'll never accept her. Never. Not after what she did._" He glared up at the man defiantly, but the man had a comeback, as always. After all, he relied on his power as a second to his smooth tongue.

"_I think what she did dims in comparison to what I did, yet you found it in yourself to forgive me._"

It pulled him up speechless, which infuriated him. He knew that it was unreasonable to forgive Tom for killing both of his parents and denying him of any sort of normal childhood, when he wouldn't forgive Bellatrix for killing his Godfather, who he had only been in contact with for a few years before his death. He knew it was unreasonable, yet he still didn't want to. Eyebrows upturning, his voice turned somewhat pleading, "_That was different, Tom._"

The man quirked an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. "How is that different, even in the slightest?"

Harry folded his arms as well, looking away from the man. "It's very different. Very much so." The man quirked an eyebrow at him, asking silently 'how?' Scowling, the teen looked away. "_I am not her serpent. I'm yours._" He looked at him out the corner of his eye, his emerald orbs sparking. "That's the difference."

A shudder ran down the man's spine, and he looked away, but only for a second. Looking back, he steeled his resolve. "_This is final, Harry. No arguments, no debating. This is happening, whether you like it or not._" The teen seemed to deflate, and he softened his voice, "_It is necessary, I assure you._"

Heaving a sigh, the teen looked away. "Fine. Doesn't mean I'm going to like it."

His expression softening, the man turned his head so only the teen could see his gentle half smile. The sight melted the boy's standoffish demeanor, and he relaxed, sighing again. He returned the smile, and refrained from hugging him in front of his Death Eaters. After all, that wouldn't seem too manly about either of them, and he figured that Tom would prefer to keep their affections behind (somewhat) closed doors.

Placing his hand on Harry's back, the man turned and led him back to the three that were waiting patiently. Clearing his throat, the Dark Lord Voldemort said to his most trusted followers, "Lady and gentlemen, I would like to reintroduce you to your Prince, whom I am sure you all remember from last night." The three rose to their feet, and the man, over Harry's head, made eye contact with all three then pointedly looked back at the teen. Taking his hint, the three moved forward, and, one after the other, took Harry's right hand and kissed the back of it.

"My Prince..."

"My Prince..."

"My Prince..."

The boy flushed, but didn't look away, nodding to each of the three of them. Once they all rose to their feet, the man continued, "Your Prince is to be your new pupil. Each of you will have a hand in readying him, and washing the blasphemy the Light has been feeding him out of his ears." A small smirk spread across his lips as he spoke, "Mind, he has a bit of a tongue. I'm sure all of you remember such." He waited long enough to see flashes of agreement in their eyes before finishing,

"However, you would do well to remember that he is now your Prince, and is to be treated with the same respect as your Lord. If any of you mistreat your Prince," he looked at each of them, making sure that his eye contact lasted long enough to chill the bones of his Death Eaters, "You will be punished with sevenfold the ferocity of your punishment, had you mistreated me." The room itself seemed to chill with his words, sending a shiver down even his serpent's spine.

"Am I understood?"

His followers dipped into a bow, and as one murmured, "Of course, my Lord."

"Good." The man conjured a chair from midair, highbacked and extravagant. Setting it on the floor, he sat in it and waved Harry forward. "Go on, begin."

With that, Harry's training commenced.

**A/N: I think that this is how Harry truly would be acting, because even though he now trusts Voldemort does not mean he's just going to throw the towel in and automatically trust each and every follower that he comes across, you know? It's gonna take him awhile. Mind, he's been the Light's plaything since he was a baby. There's some things that are gonna take awhile to fix. **

**Tell me what y'all think!**

**Heads up: Next chapter, training truly begins! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:**

**DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have problems with any of these, are too young or immature to read this, then, I'm sorry, go away. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do, in fact, own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.**

**So go bother J K Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it. **

**A/N: Alright, not much to say here (: Tired, hyped up on coffee. Enjoy, let me know what you think. Thank you to all my reviewers, as you are what gets me through the days and most especially the nights. **

"Like this, my Prince." Lucius' hand touched the boy carefully and quickly, as though afraid any exceedingly strong or extended contact would have the Dark Lord descend upon his head, as Harry noted. The teen did not know that the man was right in doing so. Voldemort would, without a doubt, injure the eldest Malfoy if either of the things occured. He understood that certain injuries were going to be present, because of the training he was enduring. However, there wasn't an excuse for some things.

Straightening his back, the teen took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the man had previously instructed. Lucius (as he was instructed to call him) was his teacher in body strength. They, as wizards, had no concept of Kung Fu, or other martial arts, but Harry found it very similar to a lot of things he had seen on Dudley's games and movies, if not as exaggerated. "Clear your mind," the man commanded, and the green eyed teen was reminded of Severus' previous disasterous lessons of Occlumency at Hogwarts.

He shuddered to himself, then cleared his mind.

Walking around the teen, he eyed the teen's form, trying not to take not of the seemingly perfect dips and curves of his youthful muscles. "Relax." The teen did, rolling his shoulders back. "Listen to the sound of my voice." The voice was behind him now, and he took note of that. Closing his eyes around the man made him nervous, and though he knew the man wouldn't do anything, as Tom was not even 30 feet away, he couldn't help but be anxious.

They were in a large room, empty of everything except Lucius, Harry, Voldemort, and the chair he sat on. The youngest stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed, shoulders rolled back and head high. Even though Lucius had just told him to relax, his posture held tight, every muscle in his body tensed. Seeing it, the man repeated himself, his voice more exasperated this time, "Relax, my Prince. You must."

The teen's shoulders rolled forward, and he took a few steps, clenching his hands in his hair and opening his eyes. "I can't do this," he stated, walking away from the man, turning to face him again. "I can't."

A tic worked in the blonde's jaw and he said in a carefully controlled voice, "My Prince, we must. This is only the first step, but it's crucial."

He shook his head, "I can't have you behind me while I've got my eyes closed. I simply can't." He licked his lips and glanced over at Tom, who had yet to say anything. "I don't trust you."

Jaw clenching, the man carefully watched his words and tone, not eager to infuriate his Prince nor his Lord. "My Prince, if there is one thing I can swear to you, it is that I will bring you no harm. I understand that we have had our dealings in the past, but you are my Prince now. You are on our side, under my Lord's protection, and, therefore, under mine as well. I shall not let any harm come to you, not while I am around." The teen stopped and looked at him blankly, as though surprised at his words.

"While I will not allow harm to come to you while I am around, there will be times when the Prince is alone. Therefore, you will need to learn how to protect yourself, and a strong body mirrors a strong mind. There will be times when you will need to rely on body strength, among others things, besides simply magic."

The words surprised Harry. He always believed that Lucius saw that the solution to every problem was magic, as he was so proud of his Pureblood heritage that the teen was sure if there was a badge for such, he would keep it pinned on his lapel. Glancing over at Tom, who did not move or say anything. Turning back to his instructor, he nodded, dropping his head to look at the ground. He moved forward, standing where he had previously been positioned. "Here?" he asked, looking over at the man, who nodded in return.

"Seeing as you aren't comfortable with me behind you yet, let's just work on your balance." He moved to stand in front of the teen, looking into his eyes. Swallowing the saliva in his mouth, the teen forced himself to stay still and not back away from the eyes that he had trained himself throughout his life to hate. "Stand with your feet a shoulders width apart. Hold your hands in front of you, elbows bent, palms facing me." He assumed the same stance he had just told Harry to take, watching him as he assumed it, making minor adjustments.

Peering in from the hallway, Severus stood quietly outside of the door, as he had not been invited in yet was curious about Harry's development, and (slightly) concerned for his safety. While he trusted Lucius on his own behalf, he knew that the man did not care for the teen. He could not say anything set about his Lord, however; he had no right to make any assumptions nor any reasoning to think that the man wanted any harm to come to the teen, especially with how he was acting towards him.

Still, Harry was Lily's son. He might have failed her, but he felt redemption was within his grasp if he kept her son out of harm.

Then, the man's dark eyes found Lucius. He licked his lips at the sight of the man, who had his long blonde hair pulled back into a tight low ponytail (as he always did when he was getting hands on). He had abandoned his overcoat, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up to his elbows, leaving his shoes and socks on the sidelines along with his notorious cane. There stood one of the sexiest men Severus had ever seen in his life, his shoulders back, head high, the confidence flowing through his veins as surely as the aristocratic blood that pumped through them as well.

As though feeling his eyes upon him, the aristocrat looked up from peering down at Harry to meet Severus' gaze. When their eyes met, the Potion's Master felt a shock of electricity go through him. Pressing his lips together, he forced himself to look away, to make it seem as though he was just peeking in as he walked by. He most certainly did not want Lucius, his best friend, to realize that he had been checking him out. Almost immediately, he felt as though he was betraying his love of Lily, if only by looking at him.

Shaking his head, he walked away. He was sure now that Lucius would not harm the boy, seeing how their Dark Lord Voldemort looked at him. However, he wasn't at all sure he could say the same for Bellatrix.

"Balance is the key." The man reached forward and pushed on his hands, making the teen wobble a step backwards. "Balance," he murmured again, as the teen reassumed his position. Again he pushed on the teen's hands, and again he wobbled backwards. Moving forward again, he steeled his resolve. The next time the hands pushed against his hands, he only leaned backwards. He grinned triumphantly, only to be shot down when the man's hands returned, and pulled his hands instead of pushing them, making him wobble forwards.

"Balance," he repeated with a smirk, his grey eyes twinkling.

Harry scowled at the man, then made a face at him. Tilting his head back, the man laughed, a refreshing sound; it wasn't the condescending chuckle the teen was used to coming out of the man. Relaxing a little, the boy allowed himself a smile at the sound, and (as we all know, laughter is contagious) began laughing himself, taking a step away from the man as he did. Wrapping his arms around his stomach, the boy began laughing louder, the sound bubbling from within him.

It had been so very long since he had had a good, refreshing laugh. It permeated throughout his entire being, chasing every ounce of sickness, harm, or ill being from his body. Happiness filled him, and he found himself gasping for air while laughing, unable to stop. Tears rolled down his face, and while the initial action that had him laughing had not been that funny, now that he was laughing he couldn't find it in himself to stop.

Finally, after nearly 5 whole minutes of laughing, he was able to calm himself. Standing up straight, he smiled brightly at Lucius, who chuckled at him. "Well, are you alright now, my Prince?" His smile turned into a lopsided grin and he gave another little laugh.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He stood back in the position he had been in before, holding his hands up and peering into the grey eyes that did not seem nearly as menacing, a light smirk splayed across the man's face.

"Balance," he repeated, and pushed on Harry's hands.

* * *

Severus looked at the boy who sat across from him, legs folded 'Indian style' on the loveseat he sat on. Lily's green eyes blinked up at him, curious yet untrusting, the very first look he had ever received from the boy's mother. He had stacked quite a few books on the coffee table in between them, and was standing between the two arm chairs in the library. Voldemort sat beside Harry, his Prince, and had instructed him to teach as though he was not there. He was merely there as an observer, to make sure that Severus treated his serpent correctly.

Waiting long enough for the two to get comfortable, the Potion's Master cleared his throat before beginning. "Well, as you are aware, Lucius will be training you robdy, and Bella will be training your skills in the field of magic. As they will be covering those areas of your training, I will be training your mind."

Instantly he saw the teen stiffen, drawing back away from him. He undoubtably was thinking of their disasterous lessons the year before at Hogwarts. So, he immediately began to repair the situation, before his Lord stepped in and did something that he did not want him to. "Now, seeing as you have the Mark of Ouroboros on your neck, you need not worry about Legilimency." He saw the confused look on the teen's face, and decided to elaborate.

"The Mark of Ouroboros, when placed on the neck, prevents people from coming unbidden into one's mind. As the one who placed it there, the Dark Lord Voldemort is the one decides who he trusts enough to allow into your mind." He gestured to the man sitting beside the teen. Harry, following his hand, turned his gaze upon the man, unsure of what to think of him controlling who could get into his mind.

"You aren't the best judge of character, Harry." The man explained his actions, tucking a strand of long hair behind the boy's ear. Resisting leaning into the touch, the teen replied,

"_We will discuss this more, later._" The man dipped his head in consent, agreeing. Turning his green eyes back on the man, the Potion's Master was once again struck by how similar his eyes were to his dead mother's.

Looking away, he settled his gaze on the books he had set out. "Since that aspect of your mental stability is taken care of, we are going to round out your knowledge. There are things that are not taught at Hogwarts that you need to know, things that are looked over, not spent enough time on. Other than reading and gathering knowledge, this... class, if you wish to call it that, is for everything else. Anything and everything that you wish to learn, or are curious about, will be taught by me. So, if you have any questions or are curious about anything, do not hesitate to ask."

Nodding, the teen looked at the stack of books on the table, taking note of their titles for the first time. He noticed that a number of them were titles he had taken note of previously, and the ones he did not recognize certainly drew his attention. Picking the first book up of the top of the stack, the man leaned forward and handed it to him. Bringing the thick tome into his lap, he skimmed his fingers across the title that was scribed in gold leaf, _Infinity_, remembering it from earlier that day.

Looking up, he found that the man had already sat down in one of the armchairs, his nose buried in an old looking tome titled _Potion Brewing for Masters_. Glancing over at the man beside him, he unfolded his legs and found that he and Tom were on the same thought wave, as usual. Moving to press his back against the arm rest, the man drew Harry into his lap, wrapping his arms around him and pushing the teen's back to his chest. Shifting, the green eyed male settled comfortably in between the male's legs, resting his head back as he opened the book.

_This lesson is a nice break from Lucius'_, he remarked to himself, relaxing into the feel of Tom's arms wrapped around him. _Yes, a very nice break..._

* * *

"Well, my Prince, for our lesson, we have to go on a little field trip first," Bellatrix's, or Bella, as he was told to call her, voice sent his nerves to edge. He didn't like her voice, didn't like what she said, didn't like the way she looked at him, and most definitely did not like the way she looked at his Tom. Pressing his lips together, he glanced over at the man, who did not show any surprise at the declaration. However, that did nothing to calm his nerves.

"For what?" he questioned, wary of the female. She quirked an eyebrow over her heavyset eyes, placing a hand on her hip.

"That doesn't matter."

His jaw set, and he felt Tom's eyes on him, gauging his reaction. He felt as though it was a test, her denying him what he had asked. He glanced over at the man again, but his expression lent no help on what he wanted him to do. The teen didn't know if the man wanted him to back down from the fight that was bound to happen if he continued to push the subject, or to assert his dominance over them, because, as he had been reminded, he was above them.

All in all, it made his head hurt. _Merlin... I hate women..._ He heard Tom's responding chuckle and glared over at him, but the man said nothing. Looking back at the woman in front of him, he felt anger bubbling in his chest at the defiant look on her face. Holding his head higher, he folded his arms, "Why are we going on a 'field trip' and what for?" He could have slapped her across her face for the look she gave him back.

"That. Doesn't. Matter." His fists balled, anger boiling in his chest at the woman's response. Clenching his jaw, he felt that backing down was not what Tom wanted him to do. _Good, because I'm not._ The man had always got onto him for not being assertive enough, telling him he was far better than obeying people's every command.

His emerald eyes sparking in anger, he drew his head higher, rolling his shoulders back slightly as he saw Tom always do when giving an order. "I asked you a question. You will answer your Prince, or be punished for disobeying," he mimicked the tone that Tom always used, but felt as though he had fallen flat.

Bella made eye contact with her Lord, silently communicating with facial expressions alone. She gave a laugh, her icy demeanor melting in a second as she looked back at the boy. "That was a good start. We'll work on that later." Blinking, the teen looked up at Tom, who stood still with a smirk.

At the feel of the boy's gaze on him, the man chuckling, looking down at him and resting a hand on his back assuringly. "I simply wanted to see what you would do if faced with disobedience from your subordinates." Pressing his lips together, the teen gave him a weak glare. "We will have to work on that. You aren't very convincing." The words were said with a gentle expression, and a teasing tone.

Sticking his tongue out at the man, he looked back over at the woman who stood before them. "Well? You never answered my question."

A malicious grin spread across her face, and the woman said in her raspy voice, "Why, you're going to need something to practice on. I'm your instructor, and unless the Lord suddenly steps forward and offers himself, you have no target."

Green eyes narrowing, he asked, "Target for what?"

Her grin spread across her face, her insanity sparking in her eyes, "Curses of course." She tilted her head back, laughing lightly, "You aren't going to be the Prince of the Dark and not know how to curse somebody."

Eyebrows knitting, the boy looked between Tom and Bella. "Well, don't you just point and curse them?" This brought a laugh from both of them, and he felt his cheeks darkening in embarrassment. "What?" he demanded, his embarrassment making him angry.

"There is much more to cursing someone than simply saying the incantation," Tom said, chuckling at him while gently chafing up and down his back. "Don't worry, that's what Bella is here for." He turned his gaze on the woman, who was filled with warmth at the sight of his eyes upon her. "She is the best we have."

Harry looked back and forth between the two, jealousy growling in his chest at the sight of their extended eye contact. He tried to tell himself that he was simply overreacting, but he saw how Bella looked at Tom. Turning, he reached up and snagged the man from behind his neck, pulling him down swiftly and claiming his lips in a searing kiss. Moaning deep in his throat, the man returned the kiss, all thought of the woman chased from his mind at the feel of his serpent pushed against him.

Wrapping his arms tightly around the teen, he secured them together, ensuring that he could not pull away until he had stolen his breath. While it had not worked out quite how he had planned it, Harry had got his point across. Tom was his. No one else's, ever again.

After the man allowed Harry to pull away, Bella cleared her throat, getting his attention. Pushing through his muddled mind, he turned and faced the woman, cheeks flushed from the intensity of the kiss. "Are you ready, my Prince?" He glanced up at Tom, who nodded encouragingly, then turned back to her, nodding as well, more to himself than to her.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

She grinned, her dark eyes sparking, "Good."

* * *

"Pick one," the words were spoken as though Harry was choosing a puppy to take home, nurture and care for, not as though he was choosing a human to torture then slaughter. They were walking down a street in the middle of Muggle London, Muggle Shopping, as Bella liked to call it. People were bustling around them, no one taking notice of the boy who wanted to vanish, or the woman that seemed to be itching to kill something.

"Um... do I have to?" After all, they were simply Muggles going about their ignorant Muggle lives. They had never done anything to him.

"If you don't choose it, I'm going to," the woman said, eyeing a child laughing on the other side of the street. Seeing who she was eyeing, the boy deciding that he would choose his 'victim'. "Don't think of it as a victim," Bella called over her shoulder at him, knowing very well he had yet to develop the nerve for it. "Think of it as nothing more than a target."

He swallowed the last bit of moisture in his mouth, glancing around himself. He didn't like being around so many bustling people; they kept bumping into him, it was too loud, there were simply too many people. He wanted to run away from them, and hide back in Tom's manor, where he knew he was safe from the harm of those that were out for his blood. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. Spinning around, his hand went to his wand, but he didn't react fast enough, because Tom had already grabbed both of his wrists.

Upon seeing who it was, the teen relaxed, the tense leaving his body in a breath. Leaning forward, he rested his head on the man's chest. "I... I can't do this, Tom. They haven't done anything to me." Tom found he was simply too soft hearted at times.

Running his fingers through his hair, the man leaned down and whispered into his ear, "_Never did anything to you? My dearest serpent, their existence is doing something to you._" The teen looked up at him, unsure of what he meant, and, honestly, unwilling to believe him. He knew how Tom viewed Muggles, and he honestly didn't see them as all that bad. That was something the the man was aware of, as well.

"_Their ignorance of us drives us into hiding. For hundreds upon hundreds of years, they have persecuted us, killing us by the hundreds. They scowl at our kind, fearful of anything that is not them, not __normal_." He looked down at the teen, making eyes contact. "_You of all people know what Muggles are capable of when confronted with something out of the __norm_." Using their mental connection, he forced the teen to relive the abuse he had suffered from the hands of his uncle and aunt.

"_And those are the Muggles that call you family. Imagine what the Muggles who aren't related to you would do._" Anger began to boil in the teen's chest, as in the man; from their connection, Harry could feel his anger, and was being affected by it as well. "_Those Muggles have no concept of anything in this world. They lead meaningless lives, throughout all of their meaningless years. Then they dare to say that we are what needs to be eradicated from this world. Now they're ignorant to our very existence._

"_Don't you find it wrong that we are the ones, us, the superior race, are the ones that must hide ourselves? I believe so._" His words made sense in the teen's head, and he felt anger clouding his judgement, but didn't care. The Muggles had no right to do as they did. His family had no right, his uncle, his aunt, his cousin... None of them. They did not respect or fear him, when he was far stronger than they could ever hope to be.

Far more meaningful too.

Tom withdrew himself from the teen, disappearing back into the crowd of people that surrounded him. He was overcome by how loud they were, their meaningless conversations, in their meaningless lives. A woman pushed past him, ramming her shoulder into his while talking on a cellular device. She did not look back, did not apologize. As a matter of fact, she scowled at him as she kept walking.

Bile rose to the back of his throat at the sight of her. Fake hair, fake lashes, fake nails... Fake, fake, fake, fake, fake. Growling, he knew he had found his target. Raising a hand, he pointed. "Her."

* * *

Upon arriving back at the manor, Bellatrix walked past the two men. "We'll finish this lesson tomorrow," she called over her shoulder, dragging the unconscious female behind her by her hair as though she weighed nothing more than a feather. Blinking over at her, Harry looked up at the man questioningly, silently asking if she could do that. The man did not argue, so the teen said nothing, allowing the woman to walk off. "Ta!" she waved over her shoulder, walking down a different hallway and into a room where she was going to lock her up.

Entwining their fingers, the man led them away to their room. Closing his eyes, the teen rested his head against the man's arm while they walked. He was exhausted. While the Mark on his neck had taken away the pain he felt in his body from the exertion of the day, it could not chase away his exhaustion. His other arm reached across him and wrapped around the man's arm, securing him to it.

The man glanced down to see the boy's head drooping while they walked. Allowing a light smile to dart across his face, he stopped. "Oh, my little serpent, what am I to do with you?" he murmured the words against the boy's brow, but the teen gave no response; asleep on his feet. Bending down, he scooped him up bridal style, cradling his head to his chest. As he walked, he kept his crimson gaze trained on the younger's pale face.

"You truly do need a haircut, love..." even he heard the softness in his voice, but found with surprise that the last word slipped out. Pressing his lips together, he looked back in front of him, unwilling to think the word, though he had just said it. _Calling someone the word and saying it to them are two completely different things,_ he assured himself. Shifting the boy in his arms, he whispered a spell to open their door, turning sideways to walk in without hitting the boy on the doorframe.

Walking across their large shared room, he laid his serpent on the bed, on top of the sheets. Reaching down, he began to pull off his shoes, slowly stripping Harry of his clothing. He left the boy's underwear on, but stripped him of every other stitch. Standing at the foot of the bed, he had to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the teen in his bed. His skin was an almost unearthly pale, near translucent in some places. He knew he himself was not the tannest person in the world, and could probably benefit from a regular dose of Vitamin D, but he had nothing on the teen.

Funny thing was, he loved how pale his serpent was. Especially in contrast to his dark, too long hair that was so softer than the finest silk Tom could find in the entire world. His eyes, an erethral green, seemed to taunt him, and draw him closer; the same color as the curse that nearly cost him his life all those many years ago. He found it ironic, that the very spell that should have been the death of the boy, was nearly the death of himself, and bound them together for eternity was reflected back in the boy's eyes.

Stripping himself of clothing, he deposited all of his and his serpent's discarded clothing in the hamper, where it was supposed to go. Walking back, he quickly covered he and the boy up with the thick comforter, as the nippy air was quickly setting a chill to his skin, clad only in boxers as he was. No sooner had he closed his eyes than the boy turned and snuggled into his chest, cuddling closer to him. He bit his lip, but couldn't find it in himself to push the boy away, despite the fact that Dark Lords did not cuddle.

Heaving a sigh, he combed his fingers through the boy's long tresses of hair. _I suppose,_ he thought to himself, _that, seeing as Harry has been so many exceptions in my life already, one more would not hurt._ With that thought in mind, the man eased himself to sleep, ignoring the painfully obvious reason as to _why_ he allowed the boy to be so many exceptions in his life.

**A/N: So, what did y'all think? Questions, comments, or concerns, just review/message me! (: Oh, BTW, I listen to My Chemical Romance (only) while I type this story. Do y'all have a certain band or album you listen to while typing, or does everything flow with y'all? Just curious! (:**


	12. Chapter 12

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:**

**DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have problems with any of these, are too young or immature to read this, then, I'm sorry, go away.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do, in fact, own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.**

**So go bother J K Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it**

**A/N: Dear. Bloody. Hell. This took forever. I'm not even entirely pleased with the outcome either. I'm sorry, honestly. I've been going through a strange time of my life, with many changes, and not all are apparent at once, either. You see, I'm not trying to make excuses, merely to explain. I wanted to type, it simply wouldn't come out! I'm terrified that they are far too out of character, and I have a feeling that I'm going to end up rewriting this. Again, Sorry. **

Lucius' lesson, though it did not seem as though it was taxing, had him sweating by the time they were done, and he had not moved five feet from the time the lesson began. A quick shower later, and he was whisked away to the library to read with Snape. He had been looking forward to that all day, simply kicking back and relaxing with a book, wrapped in Tom's arms. The end of that lesson had come all too soon. Then, a light lunch of grilled cheese sandwich made with Muenster cheese and tomato soup so delicious that Harry swore the recipe was stolen from the Gods.

"There is no such thing as God," Tom had reminded him, amused at him when he had voiced his gratitude of how delicious the lunch was. "It is only a concept created by humans to make them feel better about themselves. Just as there is no good or evil, another concept created by humans. There is only power-"

"And those too weak to seek it," Harry had finished with a smile, reminiscing to the first encounter he remembered of the man, reciting the words he had said. Smirking, he had plopped the last bite of grilled cheese in his mouth, giving an 'mm' at the taste, "Still think I'm too weak to seek it?"

Chuckling, the man had leaned over to him, entwining their fingers on top of the table. "I never thought you were too weak to seek it. Just far too repressed, with the things Dumbledore pumped into your head." Even Harry could not argue with him there.

Now, they were on their way to Bella's lesson, the only of the three that took place after lunch. The teen had been dreading seeing her all day. Not simply because of what she was going to teach him, but he didn't want to see her. He had contemplated it, and he had come to a realization, so obvious that he did not know why it had not occured to him before.

"I hate females."

"Yes, I know this." Tom's voice said he was already aware. Peering down at the boy, he asked, "Are you just now figuring this out?" Scowling, the teen pulled away from him.

"Shut up, Tom. I never really thought about it before. But, thinking about it, I found it very obvious." The boy nodded, agreeing with himself. Chuckling, the Dark Lord ran his fingers through the boy's long hair. "I really don't like them." He looked up at the man, "Any of them." The man nodded in agreement, looking in front of them as they walked. "Including the one you're making me go see."

Tom gave no measureable response to the words, and the boy sighed, turning to look in front of him again. They came to a stop in front of the door where the lesson was being held. Pausing there, both heard Bella moving around inside, and the tinkle of chains bumping together from movement. Flicking his wrist, the Dark Lord opened the door. At the moment, Bellatrix was out of view, so all that the two saw of the room was the fake blonde, chained to the floor, semi-conscious.

Nudging him forward, the man whispered in his ear, "How about you go take it out on her?"

The woman's fake blue eyes opened, peering through fake eyelashes and thick makeup at the two. She trembled, her fear as evident as her disgust and repulsion. Her tremors were so violent that it was causing the chains to rattle, despite the fact that just an hour previously, Bella had told them that she had not harmed her. She was saving all of that for her Prince, she had claimed. And, from what Harry could see, the woman was not harmed, meaning that the woman had kept her word.

So, the Muggle was trembling in fear and disgust and repulsion even though she hadn't been harmed?

"_Typical Muggle..._" were the hissed words in his ear.

"Typical woman," he responded, making his way into the room without Tom nudging him forward. He made eye contact with the woman, walking over to her. She gazed up at him, her fear trickling from her face when she saw he was nothing more than a child. Her eyes flickered away from him over to Tom, and he felt bile rise to the back of his throat. "Yeah, I think I can do that, Tom."

A triumphant grin spread across the Dark Lord Voldemort's face, and he muttered one word,

"Good."

"Up. On your feet," came the woman's voice, flickering her wand as she did. The Muggle leapt to her feet, the chains clanging around her ankles. Then, as if coming from a stupor, she looked around herself in fear. Trembling, she wrapped her arms around herself, looking from Bella to Harry to Tom.

"Wh-wh-who are you? Where am I? What are you doing-" her voice, tremblind with fear, but growing louder with each passing moment, was abruptly cut off by Bella's harsh, raspy voice,

"Shut up." The girl seemed to suck her lips into her own mouth, almost as though they folded back in on themselves. Turning, Bella peered down at Harry (yes, down, because for some Godawful reason the woman was taller than him) and grinned. Harry was surprised to find that she didn't have black teeth, as he had always thought they would fit her. "That, my Prince," she gestured to the woman standing in front of them, "Is the Imperius Curse."

Folding his arms, he nodded. "Yes, I know that. I'm not stupid." Raising her eyebrows, the woman gave him a look as if to say, 'Are you sure about that?' Growling, he looked away from her before he hit her. Tom had been very specific; he was not to attack his teachers unless it was part of the lesson.

He could make it part of the lesson.

"Three Unforgivable Curses, my Prince. The Imperius Cruse, The Cruciatus Curse, and The Killing Curse," she grinned as she said the last three words. "But you already know all about that, dontcha?" The teen said nothing, glancing over at Tom, who seemed to preoccupied with glaring in disgust at the woman to be listening to them. However, he knew better, but did not push it.

"It takes more than just pointing and saying the incantation, you know. You have to _mean_ it." That insane look sparkled in her eyes, and she pointed her wand at the Muggle again. "Crucio." A bright red flash emanated from her wand and struck the woman, who was suddenly on the floor, screaming. The corners of her lips turned up, and Bellatrix grinned in insane delight at the Muggle's pain.

Feeling himself getting sick watching Bella, Harry turned his gaze upon the screaming woman, expecting his stomach to turn and him have to dart away to rid himself of that delicious lunch. He felt Tom's reassuring hand on the small of his back, and gathered the courage to look at the woman, screaming, still, writhing on the floor.

Upon looking, he did not feel as though he was going to puke, as he had previously thought. However, he was filled with a feeling he had never encountered before in his life, and was surprised. It was a warmth that started in his chest, spreading throughout his body, following by the most delightful tingling. His fingers began to itch for his wand, and he ears begged for more of the delightful screams.

The screams ended abruptly when Bella drew her wand away, leaving the girl curled into a ball on the ground, her delightful screams replaced by an annoying whimpering. "In order to properly cast the Cruciatus Curse, you must want to inflict pain simply for the sake of inflicting it." He quirked an eyebrow at the woman, who looked at him with a grin. "You must want to start the fire simply to watch the world burn." She nodded her head over at the sniveling woman.

"Go on. Try."

Licking his lips, he slowly raised his wand, pointing it at the woman. The feeling filled his chest again, and he said, "Crucio." The woman whimpered and whined, drawing further in on herself, but did not start screaming as she had when Bella had cursed her.

Laughing, Bella patted him on his back, swatting his hand down. "_Mean_ it, my Prince. Want her to suffer, want her to scream. You can't do it if you don't want to." He turned and met her gaze with a glare, but her eyes were not mocking, simply encouraging, and he was struck with the thought that maybe, she did simply want him to accomplish it. "_Mean_ it. _Want_ it." He felt Tom's fingers running through his hair and looked up at him, finding the man's crimson eyes swirling with the same look he felt in his when listening to the woman's screams.

"This Muggle deserves it. She deserves to be screaming, deserves to be suffering. Muggles have done nothing to you except harm you, repeatedly, time and time again. You have given them too many chances to redeem themselves, and all they do is spit back in your face. They all deserve much worse than an easy lived Crucio." However, looking at his serpent, he realizes as he spoke the teen could only picture three people: His Uncle Vernon, his Aunt Petunia, and his cousin Dudley.

Sighing, he straightened back up, looking over at the woman who stood, waiting impatiently for the fun to truly begin. "Let us call it a day."

"What? But, my Lord! He needs to do this!" she hated arguing with him, but there was no way he could simply cart off the Prince simply because he wasn't able to do it his first try. "My Lord, he needs to try! He needs practice!"

The crimson gaze on her suddenly turned deadly, and she knew the pain was coming before she felt it. She did not even hear the Crucio leave his lips when she was on the ground, pain she was familiar with but had never grown immune to wracking her entire body. Unearthly screams filled her ears, and she vaguely registered they were her own. This continued on for three seconds, three hours, three thousand years when the curse was finally lifted.

She stayed on the ground, panting as though she had just run a marathon, adrenaline coursing her body. She kept her gaze lowered, knowing that her Lord was in no mood to deal with anything from her. "Bella, what I say goes, especially when it comes to the Prince." Putting a hand on the teen's back, he turned to lead him from the room. "She won't cut it, not for his first victim. Despose of her how you will; I have a different set in mind."

Harry, who had not truly listened to their exchanged words, was still high off of the feeling of watching the woman scream. He leaned into the man's touch, his body feeling as though it was on fire. Licking his lips, he looked up at the man, who had not yet looked down at him. The door to the lesson room closed behind them, and suddenly the teen reached up, wrapping his arms around the man's neck and jerking him down to crash their lips together.

A moan erupted from the back of the man's throat at the unexpected attention. Turning, he pinned his serpent up against the wall, dominating him with a searing kiss. Hiking his leg up, Harry hooked his knee on the man's hip, pressing their bodies together. Growling, the man grabbed his ass, jerking him up to pin him against the wall, too high for his feet to touch the ground.

Giving a soft whine, the teen wrapped his legs around the man's waist, drawing him closer. He tilted his head back, baring his pale throat. He was rewarded, almost instantly, with the man's lips and teeth on his neck. Soft mewls escaped his lips, no matter how desparately e tried to lock them in, the pleasure coursing through his body. Reaching up, he dug his nails into the man's back, leaving angry claw marks up his spine. He knitted his fingers in the man's dark hair, drawing him closer, ever closer. He could never be close enough. Not even if he was buried balls deep in him, it would never be close enough.

"Mmm... _Tom..._" The sound drew a growl from the man's throat, and his teeth dug deep into that mark on his neck. He could not have contained his scream if his life depended on it, and Tom was doing a wonderful job of coaxing it out of him. It rang in the man's ears, bouncing back and forth, arousing him ever further than before. Shifting his hips, Harry ground their erections together, stifling his own moan to hear the other's.

His heart leapt to his throat when the man's lips left his neck for his lips. _Mmm..._ This was why he left the so called Light. This man. Not simply for his sex, though that was a great bonus. Tom, Voldemort, whatever his name was, was the only person that he could truly count on. He did not belittle him, did not pity him, did not take advantage of him. He always kept his promises, and he _never_ lied to him. Tom truly, honestly cared about him, though he had yet to say as much. That much he was sure of, that much he knew.

In Harry's mind, he was far better than Dumbledore could ever hope to be, in every way.

The man pushed the teen harder against the wall, soaking in his thoughts with pleasure, pride. He was glad that he didn't have to tell his serpent how much he meant to him, that he already knew. He saw in his serpent what no one else did, and watched with displeasure as those around him that supposedly were protecting him only did him wrong. He had seen how that old coot, the pureblood traitor, and that filthy Mudblood treated him. They only used him, and pitied him more than anything. They did not care for him, not truly. They only cared if he would be their scapegoat, and only bothered with him to ensure he would complete the goal they gave him.

Killing the Dark Lord Voldemort. Or, rather, sacrificing himself to protect them from the Dark Lord Voldemort.

_How stupid are they?_ Voldemort quietly chuckled to himself, biting down hard on the boy's bottom lip, relishing in the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. The move earned him a hiss of pain that turned into a moan of pleasure from the boy. Turning his head, the boy bit him hard in the sensitive flesh beneath his ear. Hissing, he jerked away, leaning back while still pinning the boy to the wall. Emerald eyes sparkled in delight, teasing him while perfect lips twisted into a grin. Crimson eyes narrowed, and his lips parted as he hissed, "_Little brat._"

Harry's grin spread, and he wrapped his arms around the man's neck, drawing him closer. "_You wouldn't have it any other way,_" he hissed in reply, orbs sparkling in delight at the knowledge. Dipping his head to kiss the boy again, the man did not deny, unable to. After all, he didn't lie to the teen, but would never give him the satisfaction of hearing him say yes. "Mmm..." the teen moaned when their erections were drug together, and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back to enjoy the pleasure.

Pressing hard, fierce kisses to the boy's lips, he made his way down his jaw, alternating between hard kisses and harder nips. Harsh hands ran up the teen's sides, dull nails scraping his ribs. He shuddered under the touch, arching his back to get closer to Tom, his Tom. Hissing under his breath, he pressed their raging erections together, throbbing at the sound of Tom's guttural moan in his ear.

The man bit at the teen's ear, his breath ragged yet smooth as he said, "Let's take this up to our room, shall we?" Harry surprised him by shaking his head, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck. "And why ever not?" his voice was slightly ragged, a bit apprehensive that the boy was going to suddenly tell him to stop.

The trembling teen shook his head, pulling the man closer and leaning to whisper in his ear, "Not in the room, Tom. Here, let's do it here." Shocked, the man pulled away slightly to look into the teen's emerald eyes. Groaning under his breath, the boy quickly pulled him back. "Damnit to bloody hell, Tom, don't stop. I can't wait for the room."

Well, Tom certainly wasn't going to argue.

That certainly was a sight Bellatrix was confronted with when she left the lesson room.

* * *

Tom kissed his way down the boy's back, listening intently to his slow, steady heartbeat. The boy was sleeping, sprawled out in their oversized bed, enjoying the soft feel of the silk against his skin. The man closed his eyes, resting his head against the boy's back. It was late now, the stars shining brightly through the large windows that encompassed their room. His silky skin shone brightly, the evidence of their dirty deeds standing out bright red against the comparitively pale skin.

Opening his crimson eyes he looked up the boy's pale back at him, making sure he was sleeping. Sitting up, he allowed the covers to fall around him, shivering as the cold night air carressed his bare body. He ran his fingers through the boy's shaggy hair, his expression the one he only allowed himself to show when completely alone. Basking in the boy's presence for a moment, he then slid off the bed, covering his Serpent up after doing so.

Slipping his feet into his favorite slippers, the man turned his back to the bed, stretching as he made his way into their shared bathroom. Walking in, he flipped on the heater along with the light, squinting into the room as his eyes adjusted. Groaning, he twisted, cracking his back. Sometimes, the boy, his little serpent, made him forget just how old he truly was. Not that he felt it, no, with his new body, he never felt a day over twenty.

"I don't much look it either," he commented to himself, rubbing his jaw while looking at himself in the mirror. Letting the heat seep into his skin, he eyed himself up and down, sizing himself up. Chuckling, he turned away, "Not bad for a nearly 70 year old man."

Making his way into his closet, he chose his thickest, softest robes to wear. Where he was headed, it was going to be cold. As it was late, and he wasn't going to be out very long, he wanted to be as comfortable as possible. After all, the only place he truly wanted to be at that moment was curled up beside his little serpent. There was only one person in the entire world that could keep him from where he wanted to be, and that was for whom he was doing this.

Straightening his collar, he headed back out into his bedroom, to find the teen curled into a ball, sleeping on his bed. The man paused, eyeing the boy. He walked back over to the bed, kicking off his slippers on the rug beside it as he always did. Fixing his sleeves, the man leaned over and brushed his hair away, revealing to him an innocence that the boy always held, but only showed, fully, in his sleep. Leaning down, he pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead, soothing his hand over his hair.

Harry stirred, blinking bleary emerald eyes up at him. He squirmed, reaching up and rubbing his eyes. "T-T-T-T-Toooooooooooom?" he said through a yawn. Chuckling, Tom soothed his hair back again, soothing him with his voice as well.

"_I am here, little Serpent_."Even in his dull, sleep ridden state, the boy's cheeks still flushed. Licking his lips, he blinked again, shifting to rise into a sitting position. Tom's hand moved to his shoulder, pushing him back down gently. He didn't much resist.

"_W-where are you going, Tom? Why aren't you laying down with me?_" His thin eyebrows were knitted over confused eyes, and the Dark Lord's look turned gentle.

"_I'm just stepping out for a few minutes. Just some Dark Lord business that I must attend to_." His eyebrows knitted again, and he made to sit up again, resisting more steadily this time to Tom pushing him back down.

"_W-well, if it's Dark Lord business, then I should come with you, shouldn't I? I'm the Prince, right?_" With no difficulty, the man pushed him to be laying down once again, though he had been resisting.

"_It's nothing to worry over, my little Serpent. I will be gone and back before you know it. It's no reason for you to get up, I promise_." Harry mildly glared at him, but closed his eyes again.

"_Promise?_" Tom nodded, though the boy's eyes were closed.

"_Promise. I'll be back before you know it._"He pressed a kiss to the boy's temple, raising to his feet. Harry smiled, eyes crinkling even though they were closed. He yawned, stretching out, rubbing his face into his pillow as Tom watched.

"_Wake me up when you get back, Tom, I'm not playin' with you. Be safe_." Chuckling, the man tugged at his collar, shaking his head as he walked out of the room. "_I said be safe_," were the words called after him.

Pausing, he glanced over his shoulder at the boy, smirking lightly, "_Fine. I'll be safe._"

He heard the teen mimicking him under his breath, and vaguely heard the words, "_Bloody bugger..._"

Pressing his lips together in a smirk, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, tightening his grip on his wand in his pocket, on spun on the spot...

Only to reappear near instantaneously in the driveway of Number 4, Privey Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England.

He look around himself with disgust and disinterest; really, to believe he, the Dark Lord Voldemort was walking around in Muggle England... Not even the readers of the Quibbler would believe that. Clearing his throat, he straightened his robes, making his way to the Muggles' house. Grimacing, he flicked his wrist, unlocking the door and silencing the burglar alarms. He walked into the house, careful not to touch anything; he didn't want to contract anything they had.

He could hear their snoring from the front door; the only sound in the house was the snoring of the two gargantuan sized males, which drowned out the light snores of the horse faced woman, and the ticking of the clock to his right. He turned and eyed the wooden timeteller; Muggles always created the strangest of things. Walking forward, he skirted the clock, eyeing the rest of the house with the same distaste he felt for all Muggles. _The things done for my little Serpent..._ he thought dryly to himself.

Though he wanted to relish what he was going to do, he knew that he held not the self control to begin torturing the Muggles and stop before he completely broke their minds. Not these Muggles, not after what he had seen they do to his little serpent, his Harry. Did they not understand just how lucky they were? To have a wizard, a powerful one at that, in their home, and not being ruled by him? "Obviously not," he muttered darkly to himself, feeling his anger rising inside of himself, his magic whipping out as a natural side effect of the anger he felt.

He fingered the clasp on the handle of the small door that led to the tiny cudboard where his little serpent was kept for most of his life. He felt anger rise like bile to the back of his throat, leaving a similar taste as he swallowed it back down. He ran his fingers through his hair, growling under his breath as he turned to the stairs. His crimson eyes promised death for all those that dared look into them, similar to the deadly creature over which he held power. He was thankful that he did not hold such power; he did not want his eyes to be the last thing those disgusting Muggles saw.

He wanted it the last thing they saw to be his serpent's emerald eyes, as he whispered the same curse uttered to him by the man so many years before.

The Muggles wouldn't be so lucky as his serpent had been, however. They would not live. They were nothing special, nothing like the boy, his boy. _Yes... mine. I very much so like the sound of that._ A smirk twisted across his face, and he turned, making his way up the stairs to the sleeping Muggles' rooms. It would be the last night they spent in that house.

**A/N: I hope you are all happy with this. Send me reviews, pretty please? **


	13. Chapter 13

**Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:**

**DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING  
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY  
VOLDEMORT/HARRY**

**If you have problems with any of these, are too young or immature to read this, then, I'm sorry, go away.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do, in fact, own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.**

**So go bother J K Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it**

**A/N: I am so sorry. That is all I have to say. I have been so busy with this summer, and somehow this story completely slipped my mind until about a week ago when MCR popped up on my playlist again, and I started writing instantly. Sorry ): Kinda longish, please read and review to tell me what you think! (:**

"_I'm home, my little serpent,_" he hissed the words gently in Harry's ear, massaging his hand down the boy's back while waking him. Squirming slightly, the boy's back arched into his touch, whining under his breath as he did. The man chuckled, nuzzling into his neck and licking the shell of his ear. "_You wanted me to wake you when I got home. Well, I'm home, so wake up for me._"

Giving out a moan, the kind one emits when first waking up, the teen yawned, clenching his eyes shut and stretching. He ingored for the moment the fact that the man was running his delightful fingers over his bare back, sending far more delightful waves of pleasure through his body. He felt the man's fingers lingering on the dimples that rested above his ass, the ones that Tom simply loved to open mouth kiss. A slight smirk twisted across his face, and he kept his eyes closed, waiting to see if the man would give into the temptation that he had never resisted before.

He didn't disappoint. Not even a full thirty seconds later his hot mouth was placing wet kisses to each dimple, sending shocks of electricity up his spine and curling his toes. "Mmm..." he whined, burying his face into his pillow. "_Toooom..._" he hissed under his breath, his body relaxing and tensing all at the same time. Licking his lips, he peeked over his shoulder at the man, finding the sight of the man leaving open mouthed kisses on his back extremely attractive.

The man raised his head and looked up at him, a light smirk playing across his face. He rolled his emerald eyes, turning over on his back to face him. "Well hello. And how did your 'Dark Lord' business go?" he asked with a grin, reaching up to twirl a finger in the man's hair. The man's smirk broadened, and he felt his stomach tense in thought of what exactly the man had been doing while gone.

"It went... relatively well..." the tone of his voice told the teen he had done everything he wanted to, and that nothing had gone awry. Giving a smile, Harry leaned back to lay down, wrapping his arms around the man and pull him down to make him lay down with him. Giving in, the man rolled over, so he was laying on his back and the teen was laying on his chest.

"I'm glad," the boy replied, closing his eyes and resting on his chest. A chill set about the room from the large windows that he refused to close. Giving a light shudder, he snuggled closer to the Dark Lord, soaking in his warmth. Chuckling, the man flicked his wrist, and the covers tugged up around them, securing under the boy's chin.

"Why do you insist on the windows open? You'll catch your death of cold." Harry couldn't help but grin at his words, looking up at him with a cheeky expression. "What?" Tom asked warily, the boy's expression telling him that he didn't want to ask.

"Sometimes, you act so old. It's funny." He grinned, dancing his fingers over the man's built chest, knowing he was pushing buttons that no one else would dare.

The man growled, reaching up to clench his hands in the boy's hair, tugging hard. "I am old, you little brat. I am old enough to be your Grandfather, even if I don't look like it."

This only made the teen's grin broaden, and he pulled the covers up higher, turning to lay completely on the man's chest. He looked up at him, his emerald eyes sparkling in a daring mockery. "So, you're old enough to be my grandfather..." He twisted his fingers in the man's hair, letting the words hang in the air for a minute. "Does that turn you on?"

Gritting his teeth, the man let his crimson eyes show a playfulness that only the teen ever saw. "And if it does?"

"That'd make you one sick git." He leaned into the the hand that ran through his unruly hair, making another mental note to cut it.

"_Then I suppose that would make me one sick git._" The reply made Harry grin impishly, and he crawled the rest of the way up the man's chest, pressing their lips together. Chuckling, the man kissed him back, tugging the teen's hair to make him arch his neck, baring his throat in submission. The teen whined, a delicious sound to the already excited man's ears. Growling deep in his throat, the man dug his nails down the boy's back, hard enough to draw blood to the surface. He hissed in pain, pushing his back into the man's hand, then pulling closer, as if he could never be close enough.

A fire ignited within the males, burning through their veins and searing their flesh. "Mmm..." the teen moaned, shifting to grind their hips together. Arching his back, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. "_Damn..._" The man lowered his head to the teen's neck, his tongue dancing around the mark of Ouroboros he had left upon it. The reaction was immediate. A shudder racked the boy's body, and he clenched his hands in the man's chest, drawing blood ot the surface. Pleasure flooded his veins, and he was near bursting simply from the man licking his neck.

"_Sin incarnate_," the Dark Lord hissed into his ear, dragging his fingertips down the boy's ribs, tickling him and arousing him at all the same time. "_That is what you are, my little serpent._" That he was. Hovered above him was the sexiest creature he had ever come across in his life. Pale, thin body, muscles trembling from an effort to keep himself from falling. His emerald eyes that were windows to his soul were closed, his thick, dark lashes brushing his cheekbones. Long hair fell from around his head, a few strands sticking to his face from a light sweat that dusted his entire body.

Then, that little serpent of his, chuckled, opening his eyes again to meet his own. Emerald eyes sparkled in delight, obviously pleased by what the man had been saying, though still flattered. A light blush spread across his cheeks at the hungry look in the man's eyes, and he dipped his head to press their lips together, whining at the heat that flooded his body at the action. The elder broke their kiss to bite his way down the teen's jawline, and found the teen's panting in his ear more arousing than ever when he moaned, "_T-T-T-Toooom..._"

Tom groaned deep in the back of his throat, his erection throbbing in need. "_Damn it, little serpent... You light me afire unlike any other_," he hissed the words while dragging his claws down the teen's back, forcing him to arch it. He attached his lips to the teen's throat, teasing the very spot that drove him insane. The teen's soft moans became screams, his gentle grip on his shoulders turning into a bruising, crush hold. The man felt something warm and wet trickle onto his stomach, and drew back slightly to look down at it, to find out what it was.

It was his serpent's precum, now steadily dripping from the teen's aching dick, which was swelled up and ready to burst at any moment. Swallowing back the moan of appreciation that threatened to burst from his lips, he drew back from the teen's neck. He hadn't expected such an instantaneous reaction; Harry let out a loud, drawn out whine, reaching up and entwining his fingers into the man's hair, then bucking their hard erections together. The feeling almost made Tom lose his mind, and it took him quite a few seconds to regain control of himself.

When he did, he flipped the teen onto his back, pinning him helpless onto the silk bedsheets. Emerald orbs pleaded up at him, that volumptous bottom lip protruding farther than he could ever remember seeing it. The pale boy squirmed under him, arching his back and hips, then thrusting forward into empty air, so desperate for release. "Oh please, oh _please, Tom._" His body trembled, on the verge of release without even Tom touching him.

A sadistic smirk spread across the man's face, and leaned down to whisper seductively in the teen's ear, "_Please? Please what, my little Serpent?_" A whine erupted from his throat, and he tossed his head back and forth, his mind unable to form a complete sentence, even of a want. "_What do you want, Harry, my little serpent. Tell me what you want, and it's all yours._" He paused to lick behind the shell of the boy's ear, relishing in the shudder that ran down his spine. "_All you have to do... is tell me what it is you want._" Keeping the boy pinned with one arm, he reached down and trailed his fingers across his sensitive hip bones.

"A-a-a-ah..." the boy whined, thrashing his head back and forth, his hair sticking to his face. His body felt as though it was on fire, the flames themselves raging through his veins. He felt utterly helpless, but did not loathe the fact; he knew that Tom would take care of him. However, he also knew that Tom was not going to give him what he wanted unless he told _what_ it was that he wanted. He couldn't even form a sentence... "_P-p-p-pleeeeease..._"

The man growled in his ear, with no true malice behind the sound. "_Please __what_, _little serpent? Please what?_" At the last word the man's magic exploded around him, fiery waves licking at the air around him, his energy so electrifying that Harry found himself screaming. Before he even knew what happened, the teen had broke out of the hold on his wrist, his own magic answering, and he had flipped the man on his back.

Though it was unprecedented, the man was not complaining. He smirked up at the teen, eyeing the electric green haze that surrounded his serpent, pushing it's tendrils against his own crimson aura, which naturally pushed back. Harry quirked an eyebrow down at him at the feeling of their magic fighting each other's, with a tempting quirk that brought an angry beast to Tom's chest. Their magic, now raging and unleashed, flew about the room, each eager to dominate the other.

A grin twisted across the Dark Lord's features, pleasantly surprised by the force of his serpent's magic. He gripped the teen's hands and flipped him over, attempting to shove him onto his back. However, he had underestimated how quickly his serpent could move, because in a second he was on the bed, alone. Blinking, he looked around, but his magic had already located the teen behind him. He whipped around, only to be tackled by the teen, shoved onto his back once more. Their magic clashed together, making a delicious ringing noise in their ears, both shoving back just as hard as the other pushed.

"_Submit,_" he hissed to his serpent, his eyes flashing a dangerous crimson. The boy simply grinned, his emerald eyes sparkling as he leaned closer, barely brushing their lips together...

"_Make me..._" were the whispered words he received in reply. His arousal swelled at the words. Oh, his serpent had no idea what he had just asked for. No idea. But he certainly was going to show him. After all, he had taken him from the Light with the intent to fully educate him, in all ways of life. What kind of Dark Lord would he be if he didn't show his serpent the pleasures of being forcefully dominated?

He flipped the boy onto his back, grabbing his wrists in a lightning fast move that could only be attributed to years upon years of fighting. Harry gasped up at him, his emerald eyes wide in surprise at the sudden movement. He quirked an eyebrow up at the man when he grinned down at him, his crimson eyes sparking lecherously. "_I'm going to make you regret ever saying that, little one._"

Harry gulped, his heart suddenly thundering in his chest. Still, his dominant side had not quite died yet, and he found it in himself to smirk up at the man, his emerald eyes taunting. "_Let's hope not,_" he chuckled up at him, trying to swallow his heart back down to his chest where it belonged.

He witnessed a fire flare up into the man's eyes at his words, and a look the likes of which he had never before seem spread across the man's face.

Never before had he feared for his immortal soul.

Harry was suddenly shoved onto his stomach, his face being forced into the mattress. He gasped in surprise as his hips were hiked up into the air, his legs spread for his erection to hang free into the cold air, his ass cheeks spread, practically begging to be taken. He gasped, and tried to draw away, but the grip Tom had on his hips was that of a vice, leaving bruises when he tried. "Oh..." he moaned when he felt the man's hot, wet tongue dip between his cheeks to probe his entrance. "Oh!" he cried out a little louder, clenching his hands and trying to crawl away.

The teen was roughly jerked back, Tom's mouth retracting to hiss in his ear "_You're mine_." A shudder raced down his spine at the sound. It wasn't a possessive, loving tone. It was more of a... 'your ass is mine' tone than anything else.

Crimson magic exploded around him, and the breath was stolen from his chest at the feel. Before he was able to try and get his breath back, suddenly, he was filled. Tom thrust into his tight heat in one thrust, a cry of pain left the teen's lips, and Tom' lips turned to the mark on the boy's neck. His cry of pain turned instantaneously into a scream of pleasure, and Tom wasted no time to start moving. His hips drew back and snapped forward, burying his length deep inside the boy. Harry cried out again, his fingers clenching in the sheets, his emerald eyes rolling back in his head.

Tom hid his smirk in the back of his serpent's neck, digging his fingers deeper into the boy's hips to keep him from moving a single inch more than he wanted him to. He watched every ounce of dominance leak out of the boy's system, quickly replaced by a submission that had him falling limp in his arms. "Damn..." the boy murmured under his breath, his eyes clenched tight at the feel of Tom inside of him. He did not even know why he would try to be dominant, when they both knew that Harry was born to be under Tom.

"_More_..." the teen begged in a whine, his bottom lip protruding out, the appendage bright red from the abuse it had suffered from he and Tom's teeth. Tom smirked broader into his back, digging his fingers further into his hips, sending delicious shots of pain that mixed perfectly with the ever present pleasure that engulfed his entire being. "_More..._" he panted, his body going limp, giving over complete and total control to the man that owned his soul.

Tom chuckled, sinking his fangs repeatedly into his back and shoulders. He crowed in triumph that his serpent was so willingly submissive, and could not help but tease him. "_More? More of what, little serpent of mine?_"

The teen let out a whine when he realized that he was going to have to put his mind back together enough to make a coherent sentence. He knitted his fingers in the sheets, ignoring the soft ripping noise he heard from them. It took him a while, of pushing through muddled thought waves to make a sentence that would make sense, and a while longer for it to come out of his mouth. "_More... more of you, Tom... I could never... have... enough..._"

At the sound Tom gritted his teeth, clenching his eyes shut and snapping his hips forward, deciding than and there that his serpent was not going to be able to walk in the morning. "_Then I shall give you all of me, and let us see if you can handle such_."

The teen just whined underneath him, his heart racing at the thought of what such words meant.

He hoped he couldn't walk in the morning.

* * *

"Why the hell would I wish such a thing upon myself?" The teen griped under his breath to no one while he walked around the mannor. "Why, oh why?" Every single step he took was a knife that slit up his back, from his butthole all the way to inbetween his shoulder blades. He wished Tom would let him take the day off from his lessons, but the man had been very adamant (while smirking very broadly) that he had to attend every lesson that day, and that he was going to greatly enjoy himself.

'Enjoy myself my ass!' he scowled, folding his arms. More like Tom was going to enjoy watching him walk around like that all day. Everytime the man saw him he chuckled loudly, which was his version of Harry's sidesplitting laughter. It made him feel like the worst kind of crap in the world, and he was getting angrier by the second. He did _not _want to go to any lessons today. He had ditched Tom, from the breakfast table, dismissing himself early with the excuse that he had to use the lou.

Harry glanced around himself, biting his lip against the pain as he pushed the doors to the library. He figured that while he would not be able to completely get away from his lessons the entire day, he might be able to delay them for a bit, if only by playing a bit of hide-n-go-seek. "And what exactly does the Prince think he is doing?" came a very drawling, familiar voice from deeper into the library. The teen jumped, spinning around and hissing foul language very loudly in Parseltongue.

He glared at the man who smirked at him with a quirked eyebrow, and then sighed, all of the anger seeping out of his body. "Your... Prince," it was very odd for him to say it, to be acknowledged as their 'Prince', "is ditching his lessons. He doesn't feel like going right now." He folded his arms, looking up at him, daring him to tell him that he needed to get back to class, with that detestable teacher voice of his that Harry had grown to loathe over the years.

Instead, shocking him further, the man did nothing more than chuckle, moving back and gesturing him further into the library. "I can certainly understand the want of... ditching, my Prince. Though you may find it hard to believe, your servant was not always so... rule abiding." Hearing Snape-Severus call himself Harry's servant brought the teen up short, and he found himself stumbling over his tongue to find the words that needed to come out of his lips. "I will not tell on you to our Lord, my Prince."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, wondering if his ass was going to let him sit down. He didn't think it would. "Do you know how bloody weird it is, to hear you call yourself my servant, and to call me your Prince? So bloody weird." The slimy professor of his chuckled, and ran his fingers through his hair. "And you know, so long as we're changing things around here, in my life, and in the world, why don't we try for a doozey, and you buy yourself a bottle of shampoo? I'm not quite sure if the world will be able to handle it, but I'm sure that I can try to help it along."

He grinned at the man, his sarcastic comments bringing a "har, har, very funny," from the man. Feeling quite empowered, he waggled a finger at the man, "Careful now. Don't go belittling and disrespecting your Prince. You never know what might happen."

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but the first words he heard came from behind him, in a silky voice that he had come to crave, "And just _what _might happen, my little serpent?"

Jumping around he spun again, cussing loudly in English and in Parseltongue while reaching back and clutching his ass. He was quite a sight, to the two men that were watching. Severus, of course, always respectful to his Prince and Lord, lowered his head and bit his lip to keep from laughing. Tom, of course, smirked and chuckled, quite pleased with the look of his serpent. He was subsequently smacked, hard by the teen, who glared up at him. "So, I guess you like making me look like a dumbass in front of your Death Eaters?"

"_Our_ Death Eaters, Serpent. They are ours. Not just mine anymore. And I'm sure that you have made far more of a fool out of yourself in front of Severus than just now. After all, he has known you almost as long as I have." Playful sparks flashed in his crimson eyes, and emerald gems flickered away, the teen's cheeks darkening.

"Shut up, you stupid bloody old coot."

Tom smirked down at him, chuckling under his breath. "Come now, Lucius is waiting for you. And no, before you even throw a fit, you aren't going to ditch it today." His eyebrows knitted, and he scowled deeply at him. "Lucius will be going easy on you, I promise. I'll not let him hurt you, if you are worried about that," he stroked the teen's face mockingly, and Harry scowled, pulling away.

"I'm not a baby, I'm not a child. I'm not afraid that Lucius is going to hurt me, I never have been, even when he was something to be afraid of. I simply don't feel like being physical, at all today. Not after last night and what the hell you did to my arse." At those words, Severus' eyes widened, and he discreetly began to walk away, feeling as though he was no longer needed in that conversation, though he was unsure if he ever was.

"Well, that is simply too bad."

"_Over bearing old coot_."

"_Spoiled little brat_."

The teen grinned. "_You wouldn't have it any other way_."

Well, there was no arguing there.

* * *

Harry did not think that he could ever, under any circumstances, be exhausted after standing still for an hour. However, his body begged to differ. All he wanted to do was sleep, and all he saw Tom doing was gloating silently to himself. "You're eating this up, aren't you?" The Dark Lord said nothing, but could not hide a grin. "You pretentious bloody fool. I hate you." Of course, he didn't mean it, and Tom knew that, but he didn't hide his fake pout either.

"You know, for being so damned old, you sure do act like a bloody child." Tom ran his fingers through the boy's hair, chuckling under his breath. "_My body is hurting so bloody bad right now, Tom, that I could murder you right now in cold blood._" The teen glared up at his own personal savior, and wished, just for a split second, that the man had just let sleeping dogs lie.

Then again, recently, he had been regretting what he had wished for, so he quickly swallowed that quick, fleeting wish.

"_Come on, time for your next lesson. A nice, relaxing hour reading. Doesn't that sounds nice_?" Harry didn't realize how good that sounded until he realized he was whining at the thought. Then he sighed, and leaned into the man, who wrapped his arms around him. He inhaled his scent, allowing the feeling of contentment and complete happiness fill his body. As he rested against him, that same feeling that he had felt his last day at Hogwarts began to generate from the Mark of Ouroboros on his neck.

He sighed and rested against Tom's chest as the Mark took away every ounce of pain he held. "_Oh dear God, Tom, did I ever happen to tell you that you are, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to me_?" Pain erupted on his scalp as fingers knitted in his hair and his head was jerked back. A gasp escaped his lips, and in that split second were his lips were opened a spicy tongue was shoved into his mouth. A moan built in his throat and his knees went weak. He felt like a complete girl when wrapping his arms around the man's neck and pulling him close.

Somehow, that thought didn't bother him at all, not when it was only for Tom.

They kissed until Harry couldn't breathe and up was down and down was up and nothing meant anything anymore, nothing except for the man whose arms were around him and who was holding him close. The man who was the only thing in the world that always made sense and that would forever be with him... He was released from the kiss and the teen rested his head against the man's chest, panting heavily and slowly curling his fingers in the man's shirt, closing his emerald orbs.

"Dammit Tom, I-" he cut himself off at the realization of what he was about to say, clenching his eyes shut and looking away. He was not going to be the first to say it. Besides, he didn't know if Tom even _did. _He knew Tom cared about him, but to go as far as to say love? Oh well. It didn't matter. If it got said, it got said. If not... well, he had lived without love before.

"What, Serpent?"

"Nothing," he grinned up at him. "And I'm Prince now, remember?" This brought a chuckle to the man's lips.

"Maybe to the followers, but to me, you'll always be my little serpent." Harry beamed at the words, pulling away and entwining their fingers. "Come now, Severus is waiting." He began to lead Harry to the library, where his second lesson always took place.

The teen leaned into the man, looking around at their home with a content expression. "I really like it here, Tom."

"I'm glad," the man chuckled, glancing down at him and was once again taken aback at the beauty of the teen. His long, thick eyelashes brushed against his soft cheekbones, his pale skin almost sparkling in the sunlight pouring in from the open windows of the house. There was no mistaking the emotions that showed through brilliant emerald orbs, plain for everyone in the world to see. Just another thing he loved about his little serpent.

The teen saw the man staring at him and squirmed uncomfortably. "_What_?" He hissed, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"_Nothing. Nothing at all_." The teen rolled his eyes, looking away with a light blush on his cheeks. Just another thing he loved about his serpent...

* * *

"I don't want to," the teen scowled, walking down the hallway to the room the had been designated for his lessons with Bella. While he was feeling better after sleeping away his hour with Severus, he knew that simply looking at Bellatrix was going to ruin it. He loathed that woman with every fiber of his being. Their footsteps and his loud voice carried through the mansion, echoing in the empty halls.

"_I promise that it won't be completely unsatisfying today, my serpent._" The man ran his fingers through the teen's unruly hair, who scowled up at him and rolled his eyes.

"_Sure it won't be. It'll be about as pleasant as popping a boil on Draco's arse_." They stood in front of the door to the lesson room now, Harry stubbornly refusing to go in. Tom chuckled at the comparison, shaking his head.

"_I promise, Harry. If not, then... well, I'll give you the right to tell this Dark Lord 'I told you so'. Alright_?" He looked down at him, laughter sparking in his crimson gaze.

Scowling and looking away, the teen replied, "Fine."

Smirking to himself, Tom flicked his wrist and the door in front of them flung open. He gestured Harry inside, who rolled his eyes and made to storm in, only to be frozen in the doorway at the sight of what - who was in the room.

All three of the Dursleys, bound and gagged in the middle of the room.

He gulped and took another step into the room, realizing that there was no way he was going to get to say 'I told you so' to Tom.

**A/N: So? What did y'all think? And I know I have no right to be asking anything of you, my faithful reader, but would you mind popping over to my profile and answering my poll? And if you choose the 'other' option, would you mind messaging me your choice or saying what you think it should be as a review? I'm just curious (: I love you!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do, in fact, own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.**

**A/N: I'm sorry for the long absence (: After I did finally decide to continue the story, I came across a difficult writers block. I managed to power through it, but I feel as though this is one of the chapters I will go back and re write, perhaps breaking it up into two slightly smaller chapters after adding more detail? I don't know, I can't bring anything else to the surface to add in right now. **

**Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy (: Reviews and critiques are greatly appreciated, though the most important part is that you enjoy reading it.**

**By the way, there is going to be a bit of gore in this chapter, though it didn't turn out as gore-y (is that a word?) as I initially thought it would. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

"I assume you know these Muggles, Prince," just the sound of her voice set his teeth on edge. The woman walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, peering over his head at the Muggles. He fought hard not to pull away and scowl at her.

"Of course I know them. It's my Aunt, Uncle, and cousin." He looked up at her, away from the Muggles that were cowering in fear from them. "They're the ones who raised me."

Bellatrix quirked an eyebrow at him. "Raised you? That's what you call it? I treat my house elves better than they treated you." He pressed his lips together and glanced over at Tom who was glaring down at the Muggles.

Dudley cowered his overgrown bully body into his mother, trembling from head to toe, as those he had tortured his entire life had done everytime he raised a fist. Vernon, who made a habit of turning puce whenever he looked at Harry, was an odd green color in the face, shaking in fear and completely silent for once in his dull life. Petunia had her lips pressed together over her horselike teeth, her eyes wide and bulging, trying her best to protect her Duddums in the position she was in.

Harry scowled at them, memories flooding back from childhood as he looked at the three. Memories of the verbal and physical abuse he suffered at their hands rushed around in his head, bouncing between his temples and he bit his lip to keep from wincing at the feeling of the broken bones and bruises he had received from them. The psuedo feeling of hunger gnawed at his gut, the remnant of going days upon days with nothing but a few morsels of food. He looked away, and Bella questioned him once more. "Now, what did you call what they did to you?"

"Abuse. They abused me, treated me worse than the most worthless house elf in the world." His shoulders rolled back and his chin raised, his fingers curling around his wand, and his words became directed at the Muggles that had deprived him of any sort of childhood. "You treated me like scum!" He pointed at them, his voice raising as anger boiled in his chest. "I did everything for you! I cooked and cleaned for you, from the time I could walk! I never got any thanks, any pat on the back!

"No! The only sort of contact I _ever_ got from your worthless sacks of flab and skin was a strike across the face, or wherever you could land a blow!" he scowled at them, at the memory of bruise after bruise, of doctors visits, one after another with thinly concealed accusations and outright lies, where no one ever helped him! "I HATE YOU!" His magic exploded around him, and "Crucio!" burst from his lips before he knew what he was saying. A jet of red light erupted from the tip of his wand and hit Dudley, bringing the blubbering mass of a boy into the fetal position, screams echoing around the room from him.

"I hate you, Dudley, for the love that your parents gave you, that my parents never had the chance to give me, and that yours refused me. It was more than enough, all of the doting love they gave you, you worthless blob of a meaningless Muggle." He spoke over the screams of his cousin's parents, practically yelling at him. "You beat me up and called me names! I only wanted to be your bloody friend! No, instead, I was your bloody punching bag!"

At a particularly loud scream of "Stop it now, boy!" from Vernon he turned the Crucio on him instead.

"And you. Shut your bloody mouth, you stupid bafoon." He scowled at him, his hatred burning in his eyes. "I hate you. For the blows you landed on me my entire life, for the things you deprived me of. I detest you for your shoving me into that little cupboard for most of my life, then locking me into Dudley's second bedroom for the rest of it. I loathe you for your sister, and how you let her treat me, and how you made me treat her!" He screamed over the man's screams, "I hate you for the way you always called me a freak! I'm not a freak! I'm a wizard! I'm better than any bloody Muggle that ever existed!"

He dropped his wand, and the Crucio broke, leaving Vernon to weep to himself on the floor. Slowly, Harry turned to Petunia, his upper lip curling in disgust. "And you. You, my mother's sister. I hate you more than the other two combined." She flinched, drawing in on herself.

"H-Harry-" she tried, but he cut her off, his emerald eyes glowing with anger.

"Don't you dare cut me off, woman!" He raised his wand threateningly, and she flinched, but he muttered no incantation. "How could you let them do that to me? How could you encourage it? Join in, even?" He shook his head, disgusted. "My mother loved you. Loved you more than I'm sure you could ever grasp with your tiny little mind and it's puny mental capabilities. And yet... you let such atrocious thing happen to her son? Under your own roof? Even you, Petunia, my mother Lily's sister, called me a freak of nature. I wonder how she feels about you now, wherever she is.

"Actually, my mother probably forgives you. Because my mother, from what I gather, was that amazing and loving of a woman. She could probably forgive you for the atrocities that you have committed unto me." He saw the woman lick her lips and he shook his own head. "I don't think my father would. And, most unfortunately for you, everyone always says I'm just. Like. Him."

He let the words sit in the air for a minute and continued, "And I have always believed in the 'Golden Rule': Do unto others as you would have them do onto you. So, in light of that, and in light of all of those years I took the beating you allowed, you are going to receive those same beatings." He pointed his wand at the two males, and the bonding fell free from around them. They glanced at each other frightened, and he said in a strong voice, "Imperio."

The two leapt to their feet, their eyes dull and lifeless, their entire beings controlled by the wand in Harry's hand. "You are going to suffer as I have suffered for my entire 16 years of my life, by the same hands I suffered by." Her eyes widened in fear and she began to shake her head, opening her mouth to plead. "Beat her." The command was to the male Dursleys, and they descended upon Petunia and began to beat her as though their lives depended on it.

"Why couldn't you just love me, Aunt Petunia? That is all I wanted. All I wanted was your love, your approval of _anything_ in my life. I tried everything. Yet I got nothing. All I wanted was the love that my mother didn't get my lifetime to give to me. But in the one year I lived with her, I received more love than I think you contain in your entire being." His voice was softer now, but he didn't take his eyes off of the scene before him, reveling in the pain that was being inflicted upon the woman before him.

Voldemort made his way over to Bellatrix, who was watching the scene with insane pleasure sparkling in her eyes. Sensing him beside her she said in a low voice, "Why, my Lord, our Prince is a natural!"

"That he is indeed." He had not been able to take his eyes off of the boy; he didn't know what was more pleasing to the eyes: his serpent, or the screaming Muggles. "We just needed to know the angle to go at to get him to realize this part of himself."

"Yes, well, my Lord knows our Prince better than anyone else. I never would have thought of it, of bringing them here for him." She glanced up at him discreetly.

"It was necessary. Anything for the Prince." He had not looked down at her, his eyes trained on the slim form in front of him.

"Mhm." She did not dare say anymore, for fear she would join the number of screaming humans in that room, merely thought to herself.

Harry stood there until the men had beat his aunt to death, then lifted the curse, allowing the Muggles to have control of their own bodies again. At once Dudley fell to his knees, exhausted and panting, sobbing uncontrollably. Vernon stared at his dead wife for a full minute, unable to comprehend what he had just done. Then he turned on Harry, beginning towards him, "You bloody freak! How dare you-"

He was cut off again when Harry raised his hand, scowling deeply. "And here I thought you had learned your lesson. I guess killing your wife wasn't enough for you to understand that you will not _ever_ hurt me again. I suppose you are just going to have to kill your son as well." Dudley and Vernon's eyes widened, but before the man could say anything else, Harry raised his wand and cast the Imperius Curse once more on him. This time, he made him turn around and start after his son, who began blubbering and pleading for his dad to stop, his fat rolls jiggling around him. The sight was laughable, and Harry tilted his head back and let loose a loud snicker.

When his father didn't stop, he turned his pleading to Harry. "Harry! Harry, please! Please stop this!"

The teen scowled. "Langlock," he said, and the blubbering boy's voice was cut off by his tongue being glued to the roof of his mouth. He was still able to scream, as his father slowly beat him to death, so the show was still enjoyable, but Harry didn't have to deal with the whale trying to talk to him.

* * *

When Dudley finally fell dead, the sun had set and Harry was far past tired. The curse lifted, Vernon collapsed to the floor, bawling his eyes out and clutching his wife and son's dead bodies. Harry reached up and rubbed at his eyes, yawning and stretching his aching body. That lesson had distracted him from the pain in his backside, but stretching to relieve the stiffness in his back reminded him again in the form of a knife, shooting up his back. He winced, relaxing again and rubbing his lower back, yawning again. "God, that was exhausting." He turned to leave, only to be stopped by Vernon's voice,

"Well, I suppose you're just going to kill me now too, right?"

Harry paused and looked over his shoulder with a sickly sweet smile. "Now, where would be the fun that? No, you're going to spend the night in here, with your dead family while I go to bed with Tom. Tomorrow, I might just kill you, if I'm feeling merciful." He made to leave again, only to once more be stopped by the man's voice,

"You'll always be a freak! No matter what you do! This just proves it!"

"Crucio."

Screaming filled the almost empty room for five minutes, and when Harry released the spell, he walked out of the door, leaving his uncle with the words, "Don't call me a freak."

Tom looked at the sobbing mass of a man and his dead beloveds for a second more, then followed his own beloved out of the room, and down the hall he was walking. Chuckling loud enough to get the teen's attention, he walked up beside him and timed his steps perfectly with him. Emerald eyes glanced up at him then looked away, still sparkling in mischief from what he had done. "So... tell me how it felt."

Harry sucked in a deep breath through his nose and let it all out in his response to the man's question, "It felt... _amazing!_" He shifted over to their language without realizing it, "_Tom, the power that I held over them, the power that I possessed! I... I didn't know I possessed such a power! This is unlike anything I've ever done before Tom! Oh Tom..._" He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, remembering the feeling and basking in it. "_It was... incredible._" The two males looked at each other, the younger speaking with such intensity that they stopped walking, so he could properly convey the feeling.

"_I... I had complete control. Over them!_" The teen clenched his hands into fists in front of him, a blissful smile on his face,_ "The fools that controlled my entire life, were instead pigs at my feet! Oh Tom, the feel of their lives seeping from their body... It was unlike anything I've ever felt before. Better than sex even!" _Tom quirked an eyebrow and Harry reevaluated, chuckling, "_Alright, almost better than sex_." He smiled up at him, and Tom found that his serpent looked even better when he held that sparkle of a killer in his eyes.

The man felt the burn of arousal race up his spine from his groin, and torch the back of his throat, leaving him aching for his serpent, the same way a man dying of thirst ached for water. He reached forward and caught Harry's chin, jerking his chin up and crashing their lips together. Giving a light moan, he wrapped his arms around the taller man, relaxing into the possessive, caring grasp. "Ah..." He pulled him closer, wishing for there not to be even a centimeter between the two of them. "_Tom?_" he questioned, in that soft, almost innocent tone of his.

"Y_es?_" the man chuckled, wondering how the small teen could be so innocent after all he had done, after killing his cousin and aunt, leaving his uncle to spend the night in the room with their dead bodies as they rotted, the skin expanding, stretching, and eventually bursting from the decomposing liquids and flesh. The smell would have to be stomach wrenching, and the sight... Knowing that he had killed them... that was going to be terrible for that Muggle.

Served him right, after what that pig had done to his little serpent.

A soft voice in his ear brought him back to the teen in the hallway of his manor, and he was again reminded of the feel of the boy's thin arms around his neck, his small body pressed to his own. He took a deep inhale of the boy's sweet scent that reminded him of the innocence he never believed he ever possessed. His innocence must have died in him when he was born from that whore, or when he was conceived from the seed of that disgusting muggle. Or, perhaps, he had never been blessed with any innocence at all.

That same innocence he believed that he was overlooked when it was being dealt out shone in the teen's voice when he hesitantly, teeth digging into his bottom lip, said, "_Make me yours?_"

Though he strained in his pants at the thought, a chuckled left his lips with the words, "_I did that a long time ago, my Serpent, if you remember correctly._"

After a weak, light chuckle, the reply came, "_Yes. Yes, I remember..._" The teen was quiet a moment as he licked his lips, his voice almost quivering when he continued, "_Do it again?_"

'I may not believe in God, but if such a deity exists, then he must love me.' He gave himself a small smirk, chuckling under his breath at his next thought, 'Or perhaps it is the deity's counterpart, the Devil that is in such favor of me, for the souls that are delivered to him by my doing.' The man thought to himself with slight glee.

"_With pleasure, little one._" He crashed their lips together, and Harry swore that he had wings, so light he felt on his feet. A relieved sigh left his lips and he pulled the man closer, allowing his soul to swell in response to the magic swirling around them. Feelings rushed around his insides, making him light headed and dizzy, the man's natural musk mixing with the odor of death that clung to him, making a deadly, toxic perfume that assaulted his senses and left him breathless. He wasn't sure of anything at that moment, only aware of that man whose arms were around him and the blood that was splattered across his cheeks, steadily burning hotter on his alabaster face.

Only one thought was racing in his head, consuming his entire body, fueling the fire that started on his cheek then raged his entire system, until he was sure that his fire had grown and that he had engulfed his Tom as well, and he was burning alongside him. His skin was aflame, his body reduced to ashes with Tom's, delivered straight to the gates of hell, and condemned to walk the earth together for all eternity. That one thought lifted his spirit and sent him soaring, blinded with happiness and overcome with a sense of euphoria, while the flames still burned his skin.

'I love you.'

* * *

Thoroughly exhausted, the boy relaxed fully and completely upon the bed, wrapped in the arms of the man who saved him from his previous life, and blessed him with another. He was no longer The-Boy-Who-Lived or the 'Savior' or the Goldenboy. He didn't have to try and force himself to be the face of the Light, to agree to be their scapegoat, and the one who saved them from the 'wrongdoings' of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No, instead, he got to lounge in the arms of Tom, and do whatever he wished. He wasn't being forced to be anything or anyone. He was now no more than Harry, and when he wanted to be, he was the Prince.

Turning his head, he nuzzled into Tom's strong chest and bit his tongue, tempted to question what he had been wondering for the months he had been conversing with Tom, and even more so now that he had been taken away by the man. Instead of voicing his worries aloud, however, he turned his head away, biting at his lip and closing his eyes. No, it would just bring trouble. Best leave things how they were, and not question anything.

A shudder ran down his spine at the sudden introduction of Tom's fingers through his hair, and he blinked his still hazy emerald orbs up at him, to find a crimson gaze upon him, a quirked eyebrow rested above. Cheeks darkening, he looked away, wondering just how much Tom knew of what he was thinking. A sigh brought his gaze back up to the man, and found that his eyes had softened, as though he knew. "_Speak your mind, my little one. Do not hold your tongue to me, not now, not ever. Your free wit and silver tongue are one of the many things that entrance me about you._"

Gathering a bit of courage from his remarks, Harry rested his head on his chest, closing his eyes. Though he was (now) brave enough to ask, he couldn't find it in himself to look at him while doing so. "_Tom... why me? Why now?_" He was silent a moment, but not waiting for Tom to speak, simply trying to get his thoughts together on what to ask, and how to word it. "_I was your worst enemy. I was –am the only thing that could destroy you. Are you simply using me, twisting my mind so that I'll not fight against you, so that you'll win in this war that shouldn't even be fought?"_

The man was silent so long that Harry believed it true, and began to push away from him, tears of anger budding in his eyes. Not anger at the man for tricking him, but tears of anger at himself for falling for it, for believing any word that came out of the Dark Lord's mouth. How could he have been so blind, as to not realize that the man was simply using him, trying to separate him from his friends and what was left of his family. Not only to separate, but (his stomach rolled at the thought) make him kill them as well. He had forced him to kill his Aunt and cousin, then corrupted him enough to believe that to be fine, and then to leave his Uncle to suffer with the dead bodies!

Putting his hands against the man's chest, he made to shove away, only to be secured there by a strong arm around him. "Stop it! Let me go!" He fought against him, shoving with all his might. "Let me go! Monster!" He began to scream obscenities at him, trying with everything in his being to get away from the man that had gone from being his best friend and greatest ally to nothing more than a backstabbing, cheating foe. "Get your hands off of me!"

"Harry!" He ignored his name, clenching his eyes tight as he fought harder. "Harry!" Anger filled him, clouding his thoughts so that he could barely hear anything the man was saying.

Suddenly he was flipped onto his back, his hands pinned to the mattress by Voldemort's grip on his wrists, his legs pinned down by the man's knees upon them. "Would you just listen to me?" He hissed at him, in a slightly annoyed tone. Blinking at the tone, Harry regarded him out the corner of his eye, scowling deeply and trying his damnest not to cry. "Well? Are you going to listen to me?"

The teen looked away from him stubbornly, convinced that he had allowed himself to be tricked for all that time, and already wondering how on earth he could explain it to Dumbledore and to his friends, if he could even be forgiven for the sins he had committed. He doubted it. After all, who would ever forgive him for killing the only family he had left?

"Have I ever lied to you, Harry?" The question brought him up short, and he blinked a few times while thinking about it. "Really, truly, Harry, think about it. Have I _ever_ lied to you?" He waited for a response, and Harry scowled up at him.

"Well, just because I don't _know_ of you lying to me doesn't mean you haven't lied to me. That just means you're too good of a liar to get caught." His scowl deepened, because he was sure the man was lying right then.

Heaving a deep sigh, Voldemort pressed his lips together, his teeth gritting a little. "You are so very dense at times, you know that, surely?" The teen made to reply but was cut off, "No, Harry. I have never lied to you, nor will I _ever_ lie to you. That is something you need to grasp and understand about me. I don't like lying. Especially not to you, you who have been lied to your entire life. I refuse to do to you what that old coot did."

Tears budding in his eyes again, but Harry remained strong. "Then why the bloody hell did you take me, then? Why all of the sudden, after hunting after me to kill me for years upon end, did you decide that you didn't want to kill me anymore?" His eyebrows upturned, and the Dark Lord sighed.

"Because. _You are mine._" The boy couldn't deny the shudder that ran down his spine. "It is as simple as that."

His eyebrows knitted further, and he shook his head, "No, Tom, it isn't 'as simple as that'. Explain it to me! Why the sudden bloody change of heart? How am I yours?" He looked up at him exasperatedly. "Explain this to me!"

The man gave a small sigh, closing his eyes. "Why don't you just trust me when I say it? Just take my word for it."

Emerald eyes darkened, and he scowled deeper. "No. Explain it to me, or let me go so I can leave." The Dark Lord opened his mouth to argue, and Harry's eyes narrowed at a thought crossing his mind, "Or are you going to kill me instead?"

The Dark Lord's eyes widened at the conclusion he reached, and shook his head at the boy. "You are so bloody stubborn. I would never kill you, Harry. Never." The boy quirked an eyebrow, clearly questioning the declaration. "Sometimes your ignorance worries me, little one."

"Don't call me that. And answer my damned question."

"Fine." He scowled down at the boy scowling up at him. "You're mine because I decree it so. You're mine because they don't deserve you, and they will do nothing more than use and abuse you. You're mine because you are the only one that has ever survived me. You are my only equal in this world. You have power that no one else can ever even dream of having, if only you'll tap into it." Harry's eyebrows were knitting; none of these seemed a good enough reason for the sudden 180 in attitude.

"You were made for me, Harry. You-"

"No." The man blinked, surprised at the interruption. "Why did you really change your mind. What did you learn that made you suddenly decide to take me from them? What makes me so different than the rest of the fucking world?" His eyebrows knitted, looking up at him for answers to questions that he wasn't sure he wanted answered, but came from his mouth anyway.

Closing his eyes, the man looked away. He knew that his serpent was going to take this the wrong way, that he was going to overreact. "What makes you different from everyone else?" The boy nodded, staring deep into his crimson eyes. "When I attempted to kill you, all those years ago, and I failed to do so," he looked away, eyes closing at the words he was being forced to speak, "a bond was created between us, that gave you some of my powers, and irreversibly connected you to me. That is how you are able to speak Parseltongue." The teen opened his mouth to question him, and he quickly said, "I don't know everything else it has done to you, what else there is."

Harry was silent a full minute, absorbing everything that he had said. Taking a few deeps breaths, he suddenly began to fight violently against the man's grip on his wrists. "Let me go! Let go of me, now!" When the man's grip on him did not lessen, he started screaming, his eyes clenching shut as he rocked back and forth, trying to get away from him. When he wasn't released, he threw his head back, screaming loudly, and his magic burst out of his body in a flash of green, shoving the man off of him and flinging him across the room. Frantic and distraught, he made to flee the room, overcome by the sudden news and the realization that Voldemort had just been using him, like the rest of the people in his life.

The breath was knocked out of him when he was snagged by around is throat and slammed up against the wall, pinned there by a forearm against his collarbones. His hands clutched at the arm, trying to force it away. "_Listen to me, Harry Potter._" The teen ignored the man, wiggling and whining. "_I said LISTEN!" _The power in his voice made Harry pause, his watery green eyes looking up at the man, the scowl etching deeply into his features to hide the pain he felt. Tom's voice held its deadly tone as he continued to speak, though he spoke softly. "_Listen to the words I speak, for I speak but of the truth. Understand this, Harry, or be lost to me forever: I will never lie to you.._" Emerald eyes narrowed in defiance, in disbelief at the words, and crimson orbs narrowed as well.

"_I'll not speak another word attempting to convince you to listen to me, and believe what I say. I am going to explain this to you now, Harry. Do you recall a prophecy, foretold by Sybill Trelawney?_" Here he paused for an answer.

"Of course I remember," he spat the words at him, his eyes still narrowed, sure that he was being hoodwinked. "Professor Dumbledore told me all about it! 'Neither can live while the other survives'. This only proves that you're trying to kill me!" Once again, he returned his energy to escaping, and Voldemort's red magic burst around them, pushing down on the young boy and subduing him. Gasping, Harry's eyes flew wide in awe up at the man, and he had no choice but to listen to every word falling from his lips.

"_No, Harry, that is where you are wrong. Yes, I have tried to kill you. I have nearly succeeded more than once. I would have continued to kill you, if not for a realization that came to me in a dream, a dream that was shared with me via a link, a link between you and I, that I, myself, created all those many years ago._

_ "Had I not reacted as I had to the Prophecy, it never would have come true. I could have brushed it aside, and forgotten it, as many others are forgotten in the Hall of Prophecy. A wiser man than I could have seen what I did not, and ignored what should have been ignored. However, I did not, and I reacted as was Prophecized, and marked you as he who would share the power I held. As my equal, Harry, I marked you, but being too blind to understand, I did not realize what this was, what it meant._" Harry's eyebrows were knitted, though he no longer fought; he was far too interested in what Tom was saying, praying that what he said was true, while all the while hoping that the man spoke of nothing but lies.

"_Once I realized that it was I, myself, who had marked the Prophecy as true, then I knew that I could mark it as false as well. Yes, I had given you power that no other wizard beside myself had ever experienced, and yet you had more. You had that mother's love in you, that Gryffindor pride. In you rested that which had never existed before, the strength and power of a Gryffindor, yet the perseverance and the sly abilities of a Slytherin. You had so many qualities that I admire, and I seek out in my expedition, my mission in life. I realized that you, who I had been trying to destroy, was essentially, what I wanted._

_ "This was a year ago, that I came to this realization. Instantly, I decided that I was not to kill you, that I wasn't going to step forward to make the Prophecy true, I had done my part. I knew that you had not the drive to seek me out and destroy me, not alone. The Prophecy would fall to the masses in the Hall of Prophecy, among the others that were not filled. At this, I rejoiced. You, a great creature of your own right, would not have to die, and would grow and reproduce, living on to fill this world with more wizard children, born of good breed._" At this, he shook his head, his lips pressed together.

"_Alas, no sooner had I rejoiced than I find myself confronted with another realization, one bittersweet and unsoothing to the soul. You would not grow to live out your life, and reproduce as would a normal wizard. You would be pushed, and poked, and prodded by those around you, by your peers, into becoming and standing for what they wanted you to. They would push you to destroy me, even once I had resolved not to kill you. They would not rest until you had overcome me, or had fallen in the process. This was something I simply would not tolerate,_" he shook his head, his eyes gathering steel.

"_I began to peer through your eyes, and listen through your ears at what they said and did, at what they thought. Those who I had in Hogwarts who were capable of it, I had peer into others thoughts, and those who were not I had listen for all ill intent. None of my followers knew what I was planning, though. Not one of them knew that I was going to take you, away from those that merely wished to use and abuse you, to send you back summer after summer to a house that sent you back more broken every year. You couldn't handle another year; that I could see in your eyes. You would fall __into such disrepair you could never be fixed, and I simply could not sit back and allow that to happen, not when I saw so much of myself in you._"

The declaration shocked the teen, and he blinked rapidly. "_You see yourself in me_?"

The man dipped his head deeply in assurance. "_More so than you could ever imagine, little one. You came from a broken and unloving home as I, a halfbreed as well. Hogwarts was the only true home you had ever come to love, though you turned out far more Gryffindor than I._" At this he gave a light chuckle. "_I see the determination, and the youthful strength that I held at you age. You needed someone that wasn't going to steer you wrong, who wasn't going to use you as all of the others had done, as Dumbledore had done. I knew this, and I knew I had to act quickly, or you would forever be lost to the so called 'Light'._"

Harry was torn and confused, unsure of what to believe and what to hold as lies. Nothing seemed untrue, nothing seemed to ring out as a lie.

"_Light does not always equal good, just as Dark does not always equal evil. That you have learned for yourself, Harry._" He looked up at him with knitted eyebrows, and obviously confused eyes. "_You hold in you ever single quality I could ever want in one that would rule beside me, one who would share the responsibilities of the world. I needed someone who was not impeded by a double life, nor too busy stumbling over his feet to impress his Lord. I needed someone fresh, who would not hold his tongue to me, and would see what I did not. I needed him physically and mentally strong, with magical capabilities that would match mine in battle._" The magic receded minutely, allowing harry control of his body again, though the boy did not realize.

"_You, Harry Potter, are what I need. Not for what you could be, not for what I could make you. I don't need you to be my Savior, for I am more than capable of handling myself. I need you, for nothing more and nothing less than you, for anything and everything that is included in such._" Harry's breath caught in his throat, and he worried his bottom lip. The man's intense gaze, the words he spoke, his magic swirling around him... it was all too much.

"Let me go," his voice was soft, but not resigned, though exasperated. Voldemort's grip loosened on his wrists, then slacked completely as he sat back on his haunches. "I... I don't know, T-Voldemort. I just don't. Give me time to sort this out, alright?" The man's lips thinned into a bare line, and the teen gave a light scowl. "I need time to think, and space to do so." Sliding off of the bed, he snagged the Dark Lord's robe and slipped on a pair of his own boxers, his feet pressing into a pair of slippers that had initials that did not belong to him upon them. Without giving a backwards glance, he quickly left the word, every words that the man had spoken bouncing around in his head.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed! (: Review, please!**


	15. Chapter 15

**I really don't feel as though I need to put a disclaimer for this chapter, besides one saying that I own none of this, and that J. K. Rowling owns all of these characters. **

**This is a relatively short chapter, but I feel as though I couldn't make it any longer if you put a gun to my head. Besides, it sounded like a pretty good place to stop (: **

**Enjoy! **

An hour later found Harry seeking solace out on the grounds of the manor, the stars his only company. They seemed to twinkle sadly at him, and he heaved a sigh up at them, his eyes focusing on the cloud of breath that appeared in the cold air before him. His lips pressed together in a scowl, and he looked away, back down at the ground. He wished to be out of the cold air, or that he had at least had the sense to slip on pants before rushing out into the night. Now that he was out in the moonlight, he might as well suck it up, and enjoy the sight of the stars.

The fragrance of a flower wafted up to his nose, and he glanced to his right, to see a single flower unfurling right before his eyes, reaching up into the night for the gentle embace of the moon. The pale, milky white flower looked silky to the touch, and his emerald green eyes were captured by the pure beauty, the utter innocence of such a thing. He wanted to carress the petals, but worries that he would be far too sullied to ever touch such a thing stilled him from doing so. Pressing his lips together, he looked back up at the sky, to find the stars and moon peering back down at him.

The boy didn't know what to do, what to believe. On one hand, he cared for Tom, and he believed (at one point) the man had cared for him. Eyebrows knitting over his sparkling orbs, he pleaded with the stars to share with him their wisdom, and tell him what he should do. "I... I'm so confused. I don't know what to do, what—well, who to believe." He shook his head, settling down on a stone bench. Pulling his knees up to his chin, he rested his forehead against his kneecaps. "I've been lied to and used all my life. I'm tired of it. Sick and _tired_ of it," his voice broke, emphasizing on 'tired'. "I don't want to be lied to anymore, and To—," he licked his lips, shaking his head to correct himself, "Voldemort. Voldemort said he wasn't lying to me, that he would never lie to me, but what if that is another lie as well?

"What if this is the same as before, but just with new faces and names?"

Sighing deeply, he ran his fingers through unruly locks, tightening his grip to look up at the stars once more. "What if I made a mistake by coming here, by choosing him? Was I too hasty?" Pulling his knees closer to his chest, he scowled up at the sky. "What if I was wrong? What if they weren't lying to me, and it was Voldemort that led me to think that? What if they truly did care for me? What if I was wrong to come here? What if I was wrong about all of it?" He demanded of the moon, knowing that he would receive no reply from the floating orb of light.

So, it caught him completely by surprise when he heard a voice coming from his left, a familiar masculine voice, "But you don't honestly believe that, do you, my Prince?" His head snapped over to find Lucius standing in the path, obviously having heard every word he said. Scowling deeply, he felt his cheeks heat up.

"You know, eavesdropping on 'your Prince' isn't something you're supposed to do," his voice held a bite to it, though he wasn't truly upset, more embarrassed at being found.

The blonde's head dropped, a fist curling into his chest. "My apologies, my Prince. Please forgive your servant."

Harry's cheeks tinted darker and he waved a hand at him, "You can just drop that now, Lucius. You don't have to call me that right now. Just Potter would do. Or Harry, whichever." Looking away, he pressed his lips together, hoping that the man hadn't heard everything he had said, had only heard the end of it. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

The man approached quietly, his shoes making gentle scuffs on the cobblestone path. "I decided to take a leisurely stroll in my Lord's gardens, and happened upon my Prince. He seemed to be in distress, so I came to his aid."

"Drop the honorifics. Just call me Harry, Lucius; since I call you by your first name now, you can call me by mine."

Dipping his head, the man consented. "Very well, Harry, if that is what you wish, but only for now shall I call you such." Gesturing to the bench beside Harry, he asked, "May I?"

Nodding, the boy shifted over a bit for the man to have more room. Upon sitting down, he shuddered, looking around at the night. "It is awful cold tonight, don't you think?" Giving a slightly indifferent shrug, he looked away, then jumped in surprise when a blanket fell around him. He blinked over at the head of the Malfoy family, who was no longer looking at him. "I couldn't very well leave you cold now, could I? My Lord would have my head if I did so."

"Thank you," he voice was quiet as he wrapped the blanket around him, becoming wrapped up in his thoughts.

"Harry, I like to think you an intelligent human being, an intelligent wizard." Blinking in surprise, he looked over at the man's sudden declaration. "So, it is odd for me to stumble upon you, and finding you wondering about 'what-if's, and other things that no one will ever know for sure." Opening his mouth to defend himself, the teen was quickly cut off. "Sitting here wondering aloud if the others in your life truly meant you harm, then wondering if it was somehow all the Dark Lord's fault." Grey eyes found the boy in the darkness, and the teen shrunk a little, looking down at his fingers that played with the slippers upon his feet.

"You started seeing through their lies before you and the Dark Lord had even begun to talk. You started seeing through them the summer before your 5th year at Hogwarts, didn't you?" He waited until he received a quiet,

"Yes."

A soft sigh reached the younger male's ears, and he looked up at the aristocrat, "Then I don't see why you question my Lord in such a way. Do you honestly believe the He would have allowed you so deep into the rabbit hole if He was simply using you? You are appointed our Prince, Harry. You have power no one else in the world has had. You have the power of the Dark Lord, Harry, the power and the privilege to use that power." He sighed, obviously jealous of the magic running through the boy's veins. Looking up at the sky, he continued, his tone softer now,

"I don't wish to try and coerce you to stay here, if you do not think that is in your best interest. I dare to speak for my Lord when I say He merely wants you to have what you feel you need. I, myself, simply do not want you to make a mistake, a grave mistake." He shook his head, his gaze shifting to find the boy in the light of the moon. "It may seem that my Lord forced those lessons upon you, but it was to help you, to become a better wizard, to expand your knowledge. We want you to be able to use every drop of magic you have, instead of being able to only scrape the surface as you would have if you would have stayed the 'Light's' scapegoat." The contempt he held for the idea showed in his voice.

Pressing his lips together, Harry ran his fingers through his hair, looking over at the man pleadingly. "How do I know he isn't lying, though? How do I know you aren't lying to me? How?" he demanded, his voice raising.

Shaking his head, Lucius replied in a level tone, "You don't. There is no way to know for sure if we are lying, or if we are telling the truth. You are just going to have to listen to what your instincts are telling you, and take a leap of faith. If, after all, that is what they are telling you to do." Turning his head to meet the teen's steady emerald gaze with his a gray of his own, "I will tell you this, though, Harry, this, coming from a man who has been in and around Hogwarts and the Ministry all his life: You go back there, you will not get back out. Dumbledore, especially, will make sure you are not left alone ever again. He will brainwash you, as he attempted and succeeded to do for all of those years. You will lose your sense of self, and become the weapon that they wanted from you."

The teen gulped, but the man was not done. "I do not beg for you to stay here, Harry, though I do believe it is best, I also believe you must do as your heart decrees. However, I do plead that, if you do decide to leave the Dark Lord and this manor, that you do not go back to them. Go somewhere else, among strangers, for strangers are far less likely to use you as those you know of the 'Light' are."

"No one in this manor means you any harm, Harry. If you cannot believe that now, then give it time. With time, each of us will prove our worth to you, and prove that your trust is rightly placed in us." He held Harry's gaze, steadying the boy without laying a hand upon him. "Trust is to be earned, not freely given. This I have always believed. But, Harry, give us the chance to prove to you that we are trustworthy; do not toss us aside for our passed deeds."

Pressing his lips together, the teen's eyebrows lowered over knitted eyes, "Why _should_ I give you the chance? After all that you have done, all Snape has done, and all that the _bitch_ has done," he spat the word, contempt laced with every syllable, "Why should I give you a reason to change my mind?" A Muggle saying came to mind, "Tigers don't change their stripes."

Shaking his head, the man corrected him, "We all did things that we would not do now, because at that time, you were an enemy to us. You are no longer our enemy. We will not hurt you, never again. Not us nor our Lord."

Harry looked away, back down at the ground, counting the cobblestones before them. The man made to open his mouth, and the teen held up a hand, his eyes sliding closed, "That will be all."

Biting back a smirk, the man rose to his feet, folding a hand over his chest and giving a slight bow. "Of course, my Prince." Turning on his heel, he walked away, leaving the adolescent to his own thoughts.

Green eyes followed him away, then turned up at the moon, content to think the night away. Upturning to the moon, his silently pleaded, "What should I do?"

* * *

He stood at his window, the windows that had been forever open since his Serpent had joined them. Out he gazed, looking upon the scene before him, at the gardens tended to meticulously. In their depths lay his Serpent, his Harry... He could sense the boy's magic, as he didn't yet know how to hide it. He would be taught in due time, however. 'Well, that's if he decides to stay.'

The thought unsettled his stomach, and he pulled his robe closer around him. The air set a chill to his bones, and as unsettling the thought of losing Harry was, the thought of him spending another moment out in the cold was infinitely worse. Midnight had passed at least two hours previous, and he had spent every minute of those past hours standing in front of his window, debating on going outside to retrieve the boy. After all, there could be many different ways that would be perceived as.

Harry could potentially think he was trying to influence him into staying, forcing himself on him. This would only push him away, nearly as surely as leaving him out there alone would. After all, what kind of man leaves one he cares about out in the cold nippy air, outside to freeze the night away?

He certainly could not say he would allow Nagini to stay the outside outside, even if she insisted.

Surely he would understand.

He had to understand.

Harry had to understand that he could not simply leave him out in the cold.

Pushing the thought of what might happen if the boy did _not_ understand to the back of his mind, the man made his way out of his room. His fingers snagged a blanket from his unmade bed as he rushed forward, moving just below a run. He wasn't able to bear the thought of Harry spending another moment outside, alone, in the cold. The boy could sit there and think about whether his intention were good or not, whether he should stay or leave for hours more, so long as he was safe and warm inside, out of the cold.

Through the garden he strode, unsettled by the cold air that nipped at his nose. Harry had left his wand inside, and was not fluent enough in Wandless magic to be able to anything worth while. "Dammit, boy. I've once again remembered why I once harbored such a distaste for you." His strong willed foolhardiness never ceased to amaze the level headed Dark Lord. Rash decisions were not something he could ever afford to make, so he never did so. He could never imagine running from a warm house to sit out in the cold with not even his wand for company.

No matter how distraught he was.

In a ball he found his serpent, curled up under a blanket with the scent of Lucius clinging to the wind. 'Hopefully, he talked some sense into him.' Still, it wasn't as though he could count on such. Harry was a delicate creature, and Lucius... well, Lucius wasn't nearly as smooth as he would have liked to believe. The boy did not look up when he approached; he wasn't sure if it was because he hadn't heard him, if he was asleep, or if he was ignoring him. He hoped it wasn't the last.

"Harry?" The boy fidgeted a little under the blanket, but did not look up at him. He repeated himself, as he hated to do, his voice soft as to not frighten.

Cautiously an emerald eyes peeked out from under the blanket, and Voldemort sighed. "Come inside, for your health. Think on it all you want, but do so in the warmth of my home. I cannot have you stay out here another moment. My conscience simply will not allow it."

The ball that was his Harry slowly unfurled, regarding his extended hand as one regards a snake. "I've said it once and I'll say it again. _I'll not harm you, Harry. Of that, I assure you._"

Slowly, the boy looked up at him, as though it was taking years for the words to process. Then, after deciding that it would do no good to argue with him, he stood on his own, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. Pressing his already thin lips together, the man reached out and wrapped the blanket he had brought with him around the boy. Hesitating to put an arm around him, he settled for dropping his hand to the teen's lower back, guiding him through the gardens back into the house.

Silent they traveled the entire way, until they hit the wing of the house that housed the guest rooms. Even then, Harry said not a word, and it was the Dark Lord that found himself clearing his throat to speak. "I'm not going to push you in your decision, Harry. If you don't feel that you are going to be able to make the proper decision in my chambers, I'll gladly have a guest room warmed for you."

Dipping his head, the boy licked his lips. He was unsure of how to proceed, because even though To-Voldemort was offering him a peace of mind while he thought over his choice, he wanted to be in his presence. Still, he feared that in the man's presence, he would fall victim to the man's dark charms. As if able to sense his reluctance to send him away, but fear to keep him close, the man took a step back, dipping his head lightly.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts then. I, as well as the rest of the Dark, await your ultimate decision at breakfast."

Harry licked his dry lips with a tongue that seemed to be much drier, and nodded his agreement. He had the entire night to think it over, the entire night to marinate over the decision. Unsure of whether or not it was a good thing, he ducked his head and moved into the room. "Thank you. Good night."

The man stood there for another half second, watching the boy disappear, then turned stiffly and left as the door closed, leaving him standing there alone. His thin, barely there lips disappeared completely as he pushed them together tightly, and he stalked off to lay in his bed, alone for the first time in what seemed like a year. His window stayed open, as Harry would have wanted it, and the silk sheets did nothing to warm his cold body. The night passed slowly, the only break in the monotony his inability to keep from flipping back and forth in his cold bed, though even that, after a while, grew monotonous as well. Though his eyes stayed closed and he did not leave his bed, sleep evaded him, no matter how diligently he pursued it.

Harry found himself in a similar situation, his thoughts running rampant in his head. Bouncing back and forth, they gave him a headache that seemed to be caused by bruises from the impact of the relentless assault of his imagination and indecisive thoughts hurling themselves at his temples. A steady throbbing of his head lulled him into a terrible and nightmare riddled sleep, where each of the possibilities of making the wrong decision played out in his head, over and over again, for what seemed like a millennium.

* * *

It was the sun that reprieved them both of what ailed them. Tom rose first, as he had not truly fallen asleep in the first place. He laid in bed for a few minutes, his crimson eyes open and staring at the ceiling. He had never truly thought that Harry would think about going back. He didn't think Harry would miss it one bit, would think for one second that it was he who was lying, not the old fool and his followers. He had calculated the possibility that yes, the boy would refuse him, and would stay with the Light no matter what he tried, but not that he would accept him graciously and then second guess himself.

In bed he laid for another five minutes, until the sun infiltrating his room grew far too bright for him to stand laying there, still any longer. With his serpent he could have laid in bed all day, but without him, all he could think of was all the things that were yet to be accomplished on his list of things that needed to be done. There were people to kill, Ministries to topple... His lips pressed together again, and he heaved himself out of bed. It took a few seconds for him to force himself to his feet once he was sitting, but it did happen. He scorched his body clean in the shower after Summoning a glass of water to quench his thirst. It did nothing to help him.

* * *

Harry found himself awake fifteen minutes later, brought from his slumber with a surprisingly pleasant dream, the only one he had the entire night. His body was calm and collected, his mind at ease with his decision, as opposed to the night before. He knew what he was going to do now. He knew what was the right decision, what had to be done in order to set everything right. Seemingly in a Utopia, he slid out from under the covers, to find a fresh set of clothing sitting at the foot of his bed for him. Silently, he slipped them on, his mind blank. There was no time to second guess himself now. It was happening.

Bare feet padded down the stairs to the dining room, where he could sense Tom patiently waiting him and his decision. He could feel the tenseness of his aura and pressed his lips together. His hand silently made its way up to his forehead, where the pads of his fingers played with his scar, and he wondered, for a split second, if he had made the right decision.

But then he was standing in the doorway, and Tom was pinning him to the spot with his piercing crimson gaze. It was time. There was no time to second guess himself. It was happening.

A red tongue snaked out from behind his teeth to wet his dry lips, but he could not find it in himself to break the eye contact of the Dark Lord. A light sweat broke out across his forehead, and he wiped his now sweaty palms on the thighs of his trousers. He was pinned to the spot for a full minute, and then Tom raised a hand, beckoning him forward. His feet moved of their own accord, listening to the power behind the crimson eyes holding his soul. Clearing his throat, Tom released him from the power he held.

"So, Harry Potter, have you reached a conclusion?"

His fingers tangled together in front of him, and he squared his shoulders, tilting his head back a little. Chest inflating a little, he took the stance of a proud, strong man who could hold his own, no matter what decision he decided to make. Though there was only one answer that Tom wanted to hear, he found that, watching Harry stand so proudly and so strongly, with such determination, it wouldn't matter either way. His mind would not be changed, though he himself had changed. The Dark Lord had changed the boy, and even if he did go back to the Light, there would be some marks that would never completely go away, ever.

This was not the same boy who he had visited one summer's night.

He was different. He was changed.

Not one could deny that the touch of the Dark Lord had changed the boy, the touch of the scar on his head or the mark upon his neck.

Silence filled the room for a long 58 seconds, and Tom pressed his fingertips together, waiting most impatiently for the boy to speak.

"Yes, I have."

Leaning forward a little in his chair, the man continued, "Then, what is the conclusion you have reached? Where do your loyalties lie?"

This time the silence did not leave the room for nearly two entire minutes, 116 seconds, to be exact, before the boy continued. His chin rose a little, his confidence in himself and his decision showing greatly, bringing an appreciation from Tom that he did not ever think he would feel for the boy. His mouth opened, and the man's heart involuntarily jumped to his throat in his anxiousness to hear the words that would fall from his lips.

"I have decided where it is I need to be. I need to be surrounded by people I know, people I trust. I have to know that I can trust those around me, with my life, because in the end, if I cannot, then that is exactly what I shall lose. It is where I will flourish most, and where I can comfortably call home. I need to be with those that I know will not lie to me, and where I can expand as a wizard. I have to know that no matter what happens, they will stand beside me, and when it comes time, I will not stand alone." Because there would come a time when he would have to make a stand, a stand much like he was making now, and it would alter history forever.

Voldemort leaned closer, eager, anxious to hear about his decision, where he would stand in life. Would he stay beside him, and would they conquer the world together, or would he choose to return to the Light, and have to be killed along with the rest of them?

Though the thought of him returning to the Light turned his stomach, he wasn't entirely sure he _could_ kill the boy, the one he had so inadvertently chosen all those many years ago, marking him as his own equal. Even if allowing him to live would spell his own demise, left in the hands of the Light, he didn't know if he could raise a cruel hand to him with a clear conscience.

"Well? Is this place you describe with me or with the Light?"

Licking his lips, the teen suddenly bit back a grin. "Tom, what on Earth makes you think that they could be anything more for me than you have?"

Tom, unable to repress the genuine smile that spread across his face, pushed back him chair and beckoned to the boy. Grinning, he bound over, crashing his lips together with the man's with such force he knocked the chair over backwards, and they tumbled onto the floor. The floor came in hard contact with the man's head, but the pain blossoming from the impact did nothing to kill his spiking arousal. Images and ideas swarmed his head, but the only thing he could truly think came out of his lips when the teen pulled away for much need air:

"And with this, we conquer the world."

Though it took a few blinks of emerald eyes to realize what the man was talking about, he finally realized and a smile broke out across his face. Resting all of his weight upon the man's chest, he reached up to tangle his fingers into his hair. "This? You mean me."

"Yes, you."

A smile and another kiss.

"Then, let us conquer."

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed (: Don't forget to write me a review, if you want to.**

******Oh! Golly gosh, gee wiz! I almost forgot! (: ****I would find it of great use to have a beta help me in this story, because sometimes in life, I just need someone to bounce ideas off of, and someone to give me a good kick in the rump. I honestly have no idea how to go about finding one, so if you (or someone you know) is interested, please, send me a private message, and we'll see where we go from there! Bye!**


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